Sevenfold
by tectrices
Summary: SxA Rainbows and Sins. In 49 pieces, an exploration of everything Azure. Bit 26 posted.
1. RED: Rewind

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: July 16, 2006

* * *

_**Red:**Wrath_

* * *

After school, Anzu rushed out to the front of the building to catch Kaiba before he could leave. For once, she knew he would listen; she would make him listen. He wasn't going to get away with it again, not anymore. Anzu was sick of his superior attitude, and his annoying habit of always talking down to her friends. He had hurt Yugi's feelings– hurt them badly! And even though Yugi was small and, it must be admitted, cute, he could normally stand up for himself. He wasn't one to just sit there and take it! But Kaiba had finally succeeded in silencing his rival, and Anzu had had to watch him walk away smugly while Yugi could only stare dejectedly at the floor. 

She was more than angry; her rage had been building up all day, recalling Kaiba's past sins. So she decided to confront him and make him answer for all his wrongs. And over the time she had known him, he had certainly built up a hefty collection.

Anzu hid behind the corner of the building and watched as the students poured out of the school. She soon spotted her prey in the middle of the crowd, his height making it all too easy to pick him out. Chewing on her bottom lip determinedly, she pushed through the swarming crowd focused solely on the arrogant man she fully intended to cut down to size.

She grabbed his arm. "Kaiba-kun! I need to talk to you."

He glared fiercely. "Mazaki. Take your filthy hand off of me _at once_."

She smiled brightly. "No. Now come on; I need to talk to you."

Though much stronger than her, the easiest route seemed to be just to follow her– once they were away from the crowd, he could rid himself of her presence with very little hassle.

Anzu led him back towards the school, a tight grip still on his arm. His annoyance was rising.

When she finally found a spot she deemed suitable for their "talk", she let go of him and turned to face him. He sneered, crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall.

For a moment, her warm smile stayed in place. But then her true feelings took hold and she advanced towards him looking like a wild, enraged lioness. "You," she snarled, a finger poking at his chest, "are an arrogant, cold-hearted, unfeeling bastard. You don't even deserve to be on the same planet with decent human beings!"

In response, he merely raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So that's your opinion of me, is it?" He sighed in exasperation. "Goodbye, Mazaki– you're clearly not in your right mind. Although quite used to insults..." he smiled and his eyes flashed dangerously. "I don't appreciate them. Now get out of my way."

He tried to move past her, but she pushed him back as hard as she could. His shock registered for a mere moment before his face went back to carefully schooled impassivity.

"I don't think so, you asshole," Anzu said angrily, glaring daggers at him. "You're going to stay here until I've finished with what I have to see." Seeing that, for a moment, she had his attention, Anzu continued. "Do you remember what you said to Yugi earlier? Well it was rude and totally uncalled for and I'm not leaving– and neither are you, by the way– until you apologize for it. Maybe your cold-blooded scales don't let the numerous insults hurled at you hurt you, but Yugi isn't so fortunate. He's actually _human_, and he has feelings, damn it! So–"

At that point, Kaiba stopped listening. He had heard speeches like that from her before, and he had no desire to hear one again. What crime had she accused him of again? Oh yes, wounding poor Yugi with his vicious words. He cast his mind back. He had said something to the short boy, he remembered, but was it as bad as Mazaki was claiming?

He thought for a moment. Probably so.

He knew he had a biting wit, and more often than not his words were acidic and cruel. But even if he had trampled on Yugi's feelings a bit, did that really give her the right to viciously accost him and then proceed subject him to a torturous lecture? Apparently Mazaki thought so, because she had yet to stop talking.

And she certainly knew how to talk.

He wasn't listening to her babble, though he assumed it had something to do with Yugi still. Or maybe she was piling more insults on him. Or she was telling him why it would be a good idea to try to be Yugi's friend. Or, in view of his latest transgression, perhaps she was reminding him that he would _never_ be good enough to be Yugi's friend. And she still hadn't noticed her wasn't paying her a whit of attention. Hmm, it seemed that all his slurs towards her intelligence had been rather more correct than he had thought.

She was closing in on him, trying to corner him against the wall. And she was livid. Her brows her drawn in, her mouth set in a tight frown– when she wasn't screaming at him–, one hand rested on her hip while the other pointed an accusing finger at him. She obviously wasn't afraid of his ire– because surely she knew that he wasn't one to take such a fierce verbal assault lying down. There would be repercussions.

First however, before plotting revenge, he knew he had to attend to the matter at hand– how to silence her. She was in a wild rage, working herself up even more with each new word. The waves of anger she was emitting were palpable, washing over him as he stood there before her, watching the red-hot, passionate fire burn in her eyes. Why, he realized suddenly, she was absolutely _exquisite._ Even if he didn't agree with her or appreciate her point, she did have a right to chastise him. He hadn't heard a word she had said, of course, but he imagined that at first it would be at least decently reasonable. He had never seen someone so unafraid to scream at him. He had never seen someone so passionate in their ire. She might be wrathful, but she was beautiful being it.

"Alright," he said finally, shocking her. "I'm sorry."

Anzu stopped in the middle of whatever it was she had been saying. She stared at him with wide eyes. "Wha... What?"

He took advantage of her discomposure to walk past her. "Are you really that deaf? Or are you just stupid?" He smirked as he caught the glare she shot him. "And really, hasn't that been your objective all along? To extract from me those exact words– 'I'm sorry'. Really Mazaki... You're going to justify my low opinion of you." He straightened the jacket of his uniform. "As I said not a full minute previously, I'm sorry. What I said to Yugi was unnecessarily harsh. Feel free to relay my apologies."

And with a smile, he left her stand there gaping at his retreating back like an idiot.

Maybe he wouldn't have to seek "revenge" after all.

* * *

_:end scene 1_:

* * *

**-Author's Ramble:** STORY EXPLANATION-- This is afic with 49 short little stories. I suppose you could divide it into seven acts (the colors of the rainbow)with seven scenes in each (the seven deadly sins).Youcaneasily seethe "sin" part of it because of the very nature ofeach piece, but I also tried totie in the color, too. I really think this is a cool idea, and I hopeall my readers do, too. 

Don't be shy; review! I'd like to hear what everyone thinks. Reviews really make my day and they help me improve. If there's a grammatical error, point it out. If you like the piece,I'd love to hear that, too!


	2. Good Nutrition

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: July 19, 2006

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_**Red:**Gluttony_

* * *

She looked down, the cheerful red of the plate mocking her with its emptiness. That was the third time she had seen the plate; she had eaten her way through three full meals already and was seriously considering going back for a fourth. She sighed and looked longingly towards the buffet. Yes, another plateful sounded great– exactly what she needed. And... surely it couldn't hurt. Right? 

So with only a slight twinge of guilt, she took her plate, stood up, and determinedly walked over towards the rows of food only a few yards away. She picked through the pots and trays and all the different dishes, hardly even caring what she loaded onto her plate. Actually hardly was far too lenient– she didn't care _at all_. What she wanted was to eat, and she was going to eat, and eat and eat and eat, until her petite body was as round as a bright rubber ball and she would have to ask the manager of that fine dining establishment to roll her out onto the sidewalk.

Anzu sighed when she noticed that she could not put any more on her poor, overloaded plate unless she intended to start licking her it up off the floor. So, feeling an emotion that she couldn't– or didn't want to– name bubbling in her gut, she carried her prize back over to her small, two-seat table.

It surprised the hell out of her to see someone else sitting there.

She sat down. "Kaiba," she said bluntly. "It's you. What are you doing here?"

He smirked nastily. "Watching you consume twice your body weight."

She frowned, not at all up to arguing with him. "How nice. Why don't you leave me alone and let me finish and all see if I can't up that once more to _three_ times my body weight." She took a big, conspicuous bite hoping that he'd get the message and leave.

If he did, he ignored it.

Anzu scowled. "What are you still doing here, hmm? If you're going to insult me do it now– I don't want you ruining my appetite."

"This is a restaurant, Mazaki, and I have every right to be here. Perhaps I'm hungry, as well."

Anzu snorted. "I didn't think robots needed to eat."

Kaiba snatched her plate away from her and took a bite of the steamed peas she had loaded on there. She watched dumbly as he chewed and swallowed. "Last I heard– they don't."

She scowled, anger rising, and decided that if she hadn't liked him before, then now she absolutely _loathed_ him.

He seemed to take her look of intense hatred as a longing for "friendly" conversation. So he crossed his legs– a too-feminine gesture that Anzu couldn't help but feel cruelly amused by– and continued to eat all of the wonderful food she had been so looking forward to consuming.

"Now," he said, wiping his lips daintily with the scratchy paper napkin each place setting provided. "You're going to tell me why..." He glared as he saw her surreptitiously reaching across the table to retrieve her plate. She smiled sheepishly before wilting under his glowering stare. Clearing his throat, he continued. "You are going to tell me why you are here, at this–" He glanced around in obvious distaste. "–_exemplary_ dining establishment, preparing to eat your way through enough food to feed a small country."

Anzu looked down, not at all happy about the interrogation. "What business is it of yours what I do? If I'm hungry– and I am _quite_ hungry– why shouldn't I be allowed to sate my appetite?"

He took another bite. She was filled with regret that it was going to his stomach instead of hers.

"Why are you eating so much?"

A bit miffed that he had totally ignored her explanation, Anzu looked up at him with a fearsome glow in her eyes. "I _told_ you already, you–"

"And I thought I made it clear that I didn't believe you." He continued eating, clearly ignoring her death stare. "So what's the matter? You're obviously eating to ease some sort of pain you've experienced recently." He looked up at her in dark humor. "Finally realized your three little friends are complete and utter fools, unworthy even of oxygen?"

To his surprise, she didn't take the bait. "No," she said softly, "I..." She looked down, an expression of hurt painted on her face. "I didn't make the cut– try-outs for the school's dance team were a few weeks ago, and the results were posted today after school." Her voice was soft. "I didn't get in."

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "And you think food will solve your problems? Admittedly, you may feel better for a short time, but as soon as the stomach-ache sets in, you'll be right back at square one." When she didn't respond, he cleared his throat and continued. "As I'm sure you're well aware, I don't like you. But I've seen you dance, and I'm not one to deny talent."

'_Save Yugi's,'_ she added to herself bitterly.

His voice was soft for his next question. "Why didn't you make it?"

Anzu rolled her eyes and snorted in cynical laughter at the irony of it all. "It would have been so much better if I had made a mistake– at least then I'd feel that the rejection was justified. But apparently they don't care how _good_ you are; all they cared about was how provocatively you could shake your body around." She sighed remorsefully. "I chose to do something a little more _tasteful_– and, as I suppose I should have guessed, it's gotten me where it usually does. Right on top of the rejects pile."

Kaiba didn't say anything else, and she watched silently as he finished off her large plateful of food. The abominably cheerful red of the plate was showing again, stained with the remnants of the meal. He, apparently, didn't all but lick it clean as she did.

With an elegance that was rarely rivaled, he stood up. "Well, Mazaki, I've really got to be going. As _charming_ as your company is, I think I've spent enough time with you to last me _two_ lifetimes."

For a moment, he lingered there, standing by the table, his eyes locked with hers. She didn't know what he was trying to convey with that expression– something so fleeting that before she even properly knew it was there, it had passed.

He cleared his throat for the second time since he had joined her. She vaguely wondered if it was because he was nervous, or just out of... habit or something. "Goodbye, Mazaki," he said, his voice holding no venom. As though expecting a response, he stayed standing there a half-second longer. But she didn't say a word. So he left, long legs crossing towards the exit in a brisk, graceful walk.

"Goodbye," she whispered to the air, confused as anything. That conversation had been one of the significantly stranger in her life. Watching him leave, she wondered if he had been genuinely interested, or just trying to find out her weakness to use it against her. It was entirely out of her realm of comprehension that he might possibly have been _worried_.

But, with a start, she realized that she was ready to leave as well. And she wasn't even the least bit hungry anymore.

* * *

**Author's Ramble:** Hello, lovely readers! Thank you all so much for the reviews of the first piece! I appreciate it; I cannot tell you how much. This piece is, eh... not my greatest, but I did try to keep the writing style light and flowing, so perhaps that will make up for the questionable, erm... plot-ish part of it. Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoyed it! The next part will be coming very soon; it'll be Sloth and it's half-written already. Til then, I suppose. And don't forget to leave a review, if you please!  



	3. Whipped

**_Sevenfold__

* * *

_**

_Disclaimer: I do now own yugioh.  
_Date: July 21, 2006

* * *

_**Red:**Sloth_

* * *

Even down to his very core, Kaiba Seto hated messes. He liked things exact. He liked order and neatness and all the pieces fitting precisely into their rightful places. 

So it was clearly an affront to his deepest nature that he found himself surrounded by an unhealthy about of chaos. Surrounded by a complete and utter _mess_. Things were strewn about everywhere, and the floor was covered in foodstuffs of all varieties. Perhaps he was a bit old to take part in such a ridiculous fight... but it had been fun. That wasn't an excuse, of course– merely a fact. (And along with order, Kaiba Seto did not at all mind dealing with _facts_.)

He knew that he should begin cleaning up. He knew that he should get up, get washed off– he was covered in what he assumed was honey– and go on about his day. Or evening. He wasn't even sure what time it was. How long had he been laying there? Had it been hours, minutes– he was fairly certain that it had at least been less than twenty-four hours.

It wasn't like him to be so unproductive. Or so lazy. For though he knew that he _should_ get up, he had absolutely no inclination to do so. He was far too comfortable. Even though it was the floor– and, by that token, hard and cold– and he was sticky and quite un-clean, he couldn't bring himself to get up. Or really care, for that matter.

He didn't have the energy. He wasn't tired– oh no, exhaustion was far from what he felt. But the utter _laziness_ that had welled up inside him was unbelievable. He was never lazy.

Half considering just going to sleep so he wouldn't even be burdened by all that troublesome thought, he happened to glance beside him.

Ahh. Now there was a reason to be lazy. He smirked to himself as his eyes eased shut. The sight of her, as messy and naked as he was, spread out on his newly nastied kitchen floor, was just about worth the trouble he knew the cleaning up would be. She had instigated the whole thing– complaining of being bored, fixing herself a bowl of ice cream, the bright red can of whip-cream in her hand.

He hadn't believed she'd really do it.

And then _she_ hadn't believed that he'd really retaliate. But he had. He'd snatched the can right out of her hand and immediately showered her in the fluffy, white topping.

Things had escalated from there. The fridge, the pantry, and numerous cabinets had been raided, and nothing was off-limits in what soon became a war. She got him, he got her, until eventually it seemed that food was materializing on its own

And they were laughing, and he smiled, pulling a piece of broccoli out of his hair. And he noticed that she had stilled, and was looking at him with an expression that he had never seen on her face before. In that moment, he realized that something between them had changed.

So, in a cheap, rather desperate attempt to keep the new feelings at bay, he kissed her. And, in a flustered, rather desperate attempt to show him just what she was feeling, she kissed him back.

Clothes soon became an impediment.

Seto smirked to himself as he glanced over at Anzu, who looked either dead or asleep. He touched her shoulder gently. "Mazaki–are you stillawake?"

She sighed and opened her eyes. "Yeah."

"We should get up."

"I know."

But neither moved.

"We need to talk about this," he said, unwilling to once again let his feelings fester.

Anzu rolled over towards him and put her head on his shoulder. "Later."

He grunted his consent, suddenly feeling too tired to even speak. He had no objection to _later_. Because at that moment, he was more than content. He couldn't think of a place he'd rather be than that kitchen floor, basking in the afterglow of an exceptional food fight and the best sex of his life.

He would clean it up eventually. They'd talk eventually. But, just for a few more moments, he'd lethimself indulge. After all, Kaiba Seto was _never_ lazy. But he rather disliked being predictable as well.

* * *

**Author's Ramble: **Here's the third bit! I hope everyone enjoyed it-- don't really know where it came from, and it doesn't really have any deeper meaning. I'm kind of ashamed: the only red thing I could work in was the can of whip-cream. That started the whole thing, though, so I suppose that should count for something. (Right?) I don't know. I was listening to a lot of Nirvana when I wrote this, so blame that. 

The last piece didn't go over very well, but a huge THANK YOU to the few people who did review. (I'm trying to catch up on responses. Heh.) Feel free to leave this little bit a comment; I certainly wouldn't object. Til the fourth-- red:envy.


	4. She Talks To Angels

**_Sevenfold_**

_

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh. (Or the song by the Black Crowes this piece takes its name from.)  
_Date: August 5, 2006

* * *

_**Red:**Envy_

* * *

Mokuba was almost bouncing out of his seat as the sleek, black limo pulled up to their destination. 

"Calm down," Seto instructed, putting a hand on his little brother's shoulder. "This is a high-class function, and I want you to behave."

"Alright, alright," Mokuba agreed, nodding as he stared eagerly out the window. "But I'm so excited! It's going to be great!" He looked at Seto over his shoulder and smiled. "I haven't seen Anzu in so long– I bet she's gonna be great! She's so pretty and smart. And she's a great dancer, too!"

Seto sighed. "Mokuba. I wasn't aware you were such a fan of ballet."

Mokuba's cheeks heated up. "W-well, I..." He looked down, turning redder. "I-I can like it if I want to."

Seto refrained from an undignified snort. All the classic symptoms were there: the bashful smiles, the blushing at any mention of her name, the lavish praises bestowed on one who clearly didn't deserve them. It was obvious that Mokuba had a crush on Mazaki. Even if he didn't approve– which, of course, he didn't– Seto didn't mind humoring his little brother. Nothing could come of it, so there was no harm in a small indulgence. The boy deserved it.

With a discreet nod, the driver opened the door for the two Kaibas. Mokuba scrambled out, wrinkling the small black suit that had been purchased specifically for that occasion. Seto sighed at his brother's carelessness, but merely blamed the high-spirits of youth. The very ones he had managed to avoid. With a great deal more grace, Seto followed his brother. They presented their tickets and were led to their seats.

"Is it about to start?" Mokuba asked excitedly, fidgeting nervously on the cushy red velvet that covered their chairs. He sat on his hands and bit his lip to contain himself. "Oh, I can't wait to see Anzu! I bet she's going to be great! She told me she had a solo, you know; she's the best dancer ever!"

Seto nodded absent-mindedly, barely listening to his brother's stream of babble. If Mokuba was that determined to enjoy himself, then far be it from his stuffy older brother to deny him one meager evening's pleasure. Naturally, Seto was already convinced that he'd be bored with what he was convinced would be– at best– a mediocre performance.

A few minutes later, the lights began to dim. Mokuba smiled eagerly, and focused all his attention towards the stage. (They had a perfect view, of course, as Seto would settle for nothing less than amazing seats.) The conductor lowered his baton and the curtain rose.

As anticipated– by at least one of the on-lookers– the beginning was mildly entertaining but nothing spectacular. Pretty, perhaps; well-staged, even... But certainly nothing more than that.

"Seto," Mokuba whispered worriedly. "When's Anzu gonna come on? What if something happened to her? Do you think–"

"Hush," Seto commanded harshly, leaning in closer to his brother so he could keep his voice low. "The show's only begun; you'll see her soon enough."

And, just as he had said she would, Anzu finally appeared.

Mokuba watched her with rapt attention, his eyes fervently glowing with unconditional adoration. He clearly thought her the most beautiful, marvelous thing on the planet, and nothing could have torn him away. And even though he was far from an expert, even Mokuba could tell that her execution of the routine was nearly flawless. (Seto would later learn that he had even gone to the troubling of studying the dance styles he knew she studied just for the occasion.)

Much to his dismay, Seto found himself forming the same conclusion. Mazaki was not good; Mazaki was _excellent_. She moved like water: fluid and graceful and smooth. She was graceful, every movement refined. She was light on her feet, moving across air– gliding above the floor as though she was touching it at all.

The dark, crimson-red outfit she wore highlighted her pale skin, adding a splash of color to her movement. The thin, sheer shirt fluttered across her hips, unable to keep up with the fleetness of its wearer.

But the look on her face... The look on her face was like nothing he had ever seen.

Seto had not been brought up to appreciate simple pleasures. He had never been one to stop and admire beauty. Awe was a feeling he never experienced; wonder was completely foreign to him. But seeing the soft smile on Anzu's face, the eyes that would close in pure pleasure, the obvious joy radiating from her– it made his heart pound.

She was in ecstacy– she was utterly rapturous as she twirled around on the stage. That was why so many people loved to watch her; she was skilled, yes, but it was the pure enjoyment she had for dance that made her performances so amazing. Anyone who saw her could tell immediately that she truly loved what she did. She was in love with dance.

Mokuba gasped in pleased surprise as Anzu suddenly did some sort of complicated spin. (The only move in dance Seto had ever even remotely heard of was a pirouette– and he wasn't entirely sure what exactly that was.) Seto felt his heart clench at the sight. How did she manage to make Mokuba so happy? Was the joy she radiated contagious? Did Mokuba share her love, catching it just through observation? There was something almost magical about the night, he felt it then. Had he really ever viewed the exquisite creature on the stage with disdain? How could something so unearthly be beneath his notice?

Seto had never experienced feelings like that– he could only imagine how Mazaki felt up there, under the lights, as he had never, ever been privileged enough to feel such a thing himself. What right did she have to be so happy? What right did she have to feel something so warm and pure and wonderful? Seto's emotional world was a barren one– he never experienced anything like the passion and blissful obliviousness he was witnessing. She was in her own world– a world that her audience could share, if just for a moment.

With some amount of trepidation, Seto pulled at the feelings swelling in his chest. It was...

Was it _jealousy_? Yes, he was jealous– jealous that he had never been able to feel what Anzu felt then. Jealous that she could have such an effect on his brother without even trying. He had never been more envious in his entire life. It was a painful realization. With blank eyes, he continued to watch her, hypnotized by the way she seemed to smile as she spun...

After the performance, Mokuba insisted upon paying Anzu his respects. He pushed through the crowd quickly, making his way towards her. Seto followed behind at a much more leisurely pace, not at all thrilled to be seeing her. He still felt awkward, though because of what he wasn't sure. He was faintly concerned about security, though knowing Mokuba that wouldn't be a problem.

And sure enough, the little enthusiast was already deep in a conversation with the star when Seto reached them. A burly man in black frowned at him as he approached, but Mokuba's excited waves and Anzu's polite "Oh! Hello, Kaiba-kun!" were enough to put him at ease.

"Wasn't she awesome?" Mokuba gushed. Anzu shook her head modestly, but Mokuba went on. "No, it's true! You really were, Anzu! It was great!" He blushed a little as he said, "I... I really enjoyed watching you."

Anzu smiled and rumpled his hair. "Well I'm glad you did. I'm really glad you could come." She glanced surreptitiously towards Seto. "And, uh... Well it was nice of your brother to bring you, wasn't it?"

That comment annoyed Seto much more than he would have liked to admit.

"Aw, I bet he enjoyed it too."

Anzu raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Mokuba grinned. "Well no, but he didn't complain so I guess he wasn't too miserable."

Anzu laughed brightly at the boy, and they continued the easy conversation.

Seto watched them, feeling bemused at the way Mokuba could just leap into any conversation topic and run with it. He couldn't do that– sociability had never been one of his strong suits. And there it was again– that envy he felt before. But then for Mokuba. _Mokuba_– his own brother! Feeling something akin to embarrassment wash over him, Seto cleared his throat.

"Mokuba," he said coldly. "We need to go. Tell Mazaki goodbye and let's be on our way."

Mokuba sighed. "Alright Seto, I..." He paused, his mouth turning down in a frown. "Oh yeah! Hey, hold on just a second, big brother." He shoved his hand in his jacked pocket and fumbled around for a second. Then with a triumphant smile he pulled out his prize. "I got this for you, Anzu," he said nervously, offering her the small trinket in his hand.

It was the head of a rose, as deep-red as the costume she had been wearing earlier.

"Oh," she breathed, "thank you. It's beautiful, Mokuba; you're such a kind boy. Thank you."

He smiled at her and walked up to Seto. "Alright," he said. "Let's go!"

And so they did. But on the way home, the only thing Seto could think about was the rose Mokuba gave Anzu, feeling a burning white-hot jealously once again. Because he knew that no matter what, she would never smile like that for him.

* * *

**Author's Ramble:** Sorry this took so long to get posted! I'm been swamped lately-- busier than I could believe! Hopefully when school starts and things settle down I'll be able to update a little more regularly. I'm hoping to post a piece every three to five days, but... Well, we'll see. I appreciate all the reviews for the last bit; thank you all so very much! I'd appreciate reviews for this one as well-- I worked hard and I'd like to know what you think. It's not a song-fic, and the song I took the title from has little to do with the actual content of the piece. I just wanted to capture the feelings that song gives me and put them in the tone of the fic. Unfortunately, I think I failed. Ahh well. Thanks for reading; hope you enjoyed it! 


	5. If I Just Ignore

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: August 7, 2006  
Warning: This piece is rated 'T'.

* * *

_**Red:**Pride_

* * *

A sharp sort of yelp caught his ear. 

"Did you hear that?" he asked his companions. "I thought I... Well I'm sure that I just heard something."

The man beside him grinned. "You're being paranoid, Kaiba! Loosen up a little."

"Yeah," the other man agreed, "it's not like there's anything you can do about it. Just forget it and have a good time!"

They were walking back from a bar near KaibaCorp. The propositions had been accepted, and with just two signatures Seto would have successfully pulled off one of the greatest business dealings of the decade. The two Americans had been drawn to the prestige of his company and all his accomplishments– at such a young age, too. Early in the year their company had requested a meeting and graciously he had accepted. They both spoke passable Japanese, but his English was much better. Gozaburo's doing, he knew– but for once he was, ironically, thankful that he had been pushed to learn it.

He may not have been enjoying their company– they were both drunk off their asses at any rate– but he needed them to keep their opinion of him high. And if that meant going to seedy bars or night clubs and ogling scantily-clad women, then he was willing to put down any personal distaste for such activities and pretend like he was having a good time.

He had just managed to forget the first sound when he heard another one. He stopped dead as he saw a young women running out of a nearby alley. Three laughing men were following her.

"Oh God," he said, making out the girl's torn clothes and the fearful tone of her gait. "Excuse me," he said to the others, "but..." He trailed off as he noticed their inattention, both laughing at a joke one of them had told. The girl obviously needed help but he didn't want to have to be the one to offer it.

He saw the woman stumble and fall, then crawl as quickly as she could over to the nearest building. The three men chasing her had almost reached her. It was dark, and not the best neighborhood, so Seto could only imagine what their intentions were.

"Oh shit!" one of his companions said. "I think I stepped in something!" He lifted up his shoe to examine it.

The woman's pursuers had heard him. They turned and saw the three businessmen approaching. Not wanting to risk a confrontation, or the chance of the police, they quickly bolted away. Seto was about to go check on the girl when one of the inebriated men grabbed his sleeve.

"Where you going?" he asked. "I thought we had to... to sign those contracts at your office."

"Yes, you damn well do have to, but I–"

"Just calm down," the other man said with a smile. "What's the trouble?"

Seto growled to himself, about to point out the distressed women shaking against the next building.

But one of them noticed her first.

"Look at that! Poor bitch looks like she got beat up pretty bad."

The other man laughed. "Probably deserved it, too. You can't trust a woman– whores the lot of them." He sighed. "My wife just filed for divorce, you know. Got it in her head that I didn't _love_ her anymore! Like I married for more than her money, anyway. God. Accused me of cheating on her, too!"

"You mean you weren't?"

"Well... yeah, but that's really not the point now, is it? She never caught me. And it's not like she's getting any younger, either."

Fed up, Seto barked out a clipped, "Could you just shut up?"

They both stopped and looked at him. "What's your problem, Kaiba? Are we going to KaibaCorp to seal the deal or aren't we?"

"Yes, of course we are, but I–"

It was then that he noticed just who the young woman was.

"Oh no," he said quietly. "Oh no."

It was Mazaki Anzu– and she looked _bad_.

"Oh, you looking at her?" one of the men asked. "Just ignore it; don't try and be some hero. She can care of herself. And if she can't, she deserves to get hurt, I say. It's a cut-throat world out there, and you've got to look out for number one. That's right, huh?"

"Sure as hell is," the other man said with a grin. "All you've got is yourself."

Seto felt blinded by their idiocy. What would it hurt to help her clean herself off and get her home? They were nearly to her, and Seto wanted to persuade them to at least let him check on her. Mokuba would throw a fit if he found out that his big brother had left Anzu to the mercy of the night.

Seto could tell she was crying, her sobs soft but still audible, and he swore he saw the tell-tale red of blood. Yes, he was sure of it. Those men had hurt her badly– it looked as though she had a cut on her shoulder, her blouse stained with sticky blood.

"I'm sorry, but I think that we should at least–"

"At least what?" one of businessmen asked coldly. "Forget about her, or we're forgetting about you. Got it?"

Seto bit back an expletive. He cursed them both to hell and back for being too stupid to remain sober. Surely that was why they were being so callous. He looked over to Anzu, who hadn't yet noticed she wasn't alone. He wanted to help her.

But he had worked _so hard_ to get where he was, and he couldn't afford to have them withdraw that late in the proceedings. His company was all he had– he was fiercely proud of the empire he had built, and there was no way he would mess that up.

So, with his conscience screaming at him and his heart feeling like lead, he let the two men lead him away. They passed her, but he was too ashamed to even look at her. Her shirt was torn, her knees were scratched up, and her left arm was bloody.

Seto squeezed shut his eyes.

The other two just laughed.

* * *

**Author's Ramble:** This wasn't very happy, was it? I hope you liked it anyway. Both the "pride" element and the "red" element were small, but they were fairly important to the fic. Bad Seto! I feel so mean making him do that to Anzu. Hmm... I've noticed that most pieces tend to be more Seto-centric. No one minds, right? For some reason he seems to be easier to write. Heh. Red:Avarice is next, then Red:Lust and then we'll be to orange! Avarice is gonna be short and Lust is gonna be... Well, let's just say that it's a lemon already and I'm only half done. It's gotta be WAY toned down before I post it. (And the red in that one, surprisingly enough, turns out to be a strawberry. What is it with that fruit?) Thanks for reading. R&R!  



	6. Maybe I'll be Sorry When You're Gone

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.  
_Date: August 9, 2006

* * *

_**Red:**Avarice_

* * *

"Another?" 

"Yes." She frowned. He rolled his eyes. "_Please_."

Anzu smiled triumphantly. "Alright, then. Here you go!" She pulled another fresh, plump grape from its stem. With a barely perceptible flourish, she gently dropped it into his mouth. It had stopped being uncomfortable for her thirteen grapes before– he had dropped all pretense of even trying to avoid her fingers after only three.

He relished the feel of the soft tips of her fingers brushing over his lips– he knew it was seldom an accident, and he suspected that she enjoyed it just as much as he did. There was something sensually provocative about the way she would let her hand linger there for longer than was necessary, her fire-engine red nails cool and hard against his skin.

But he was supposed to be pretending that he didn't want her there.

After his accident, Mokuba had asked Anzu to check in on him every once in a while. Which, in the tongue of Mokuba, meant _every damn day._

It had annoyed him at first– but then, everyone had the tendency to annoy him at first, until he developed an immunity to the utter _humanity_ of the person. And, after all, he always said that tolerance was something that had to be earned. He just had very high standards.

"Is your leg still hurting?" she asked suddenly, managing to once again surprise him.

Seto's eyes snapped open. He looked at Anzu, her face colored with concern. She hadn't been hanging out with her friends because of him. She had come over to watch him and pamper him almost every day. She would smile at him, and laugh with him, and when he wasn't being surly and unsociable they had decent, intelligent conversations. In fact, as frightening as it was, Seto actually found himself enjoying her company. On more than one occasion!

Yugi had invited her to a movie that afternoon, he knew. But she had an _obligation_ to take care of him. And he knew she didn't mind; she probably even _enjoyed_ it. Her time had become his time– and he certainly wanted it all.

He winced dramatically and looked down. "It's... Healing. I'm sure it's..." He sat up, seemingly struggling with his nonchalant appearance. "Fine. It feels fine."

Anzu sighed and gently brushed his bangs away from his forehead. "You just have to be so stubborn don't you? It's ok to admit that you're hurting– you don't have to be so tough all the time."

"Damn it, Mazaki," he muttered irritable. "I don't want you babying me."

She smiled. "Well I don't mind at all. And I bet somewhere deep down you enjoy it."

Well... Yes. But Anzu didn't need to know that. There were, actually, many things Anzu didn't know. He liked having her fawn over him: feeding him, reading to him, and the bashful staring was really quite flattering. His leg barely hurt at all, and under any other circumstances he would probably already be walking.

"_After all,"_ he thought, _"this won't last much longer. The doctors said they can take the cast off tomorrow."_

_

* * *

_**Author's Ramble:** Well here we go! Almost as short as I said it was gonna be-- about 517 words. Heh. I know the red was REALLY small in the fic, but, as with many of the other pieces, it was almost like the... spark for the feelings Seto experienced. (By the way, does anyone mind that they're all so Seto-centric? He's just easier for me to write IC.) I hope you enjoyed! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed "Pride"; made me want to go out and write more! School's started, so I don't have much time. (Read: next to none!) That shan't deter me, however, and more shall be up soon. 

Oh, and a quick question: does anyone care about how explicit "Lust" is going to be? I assure you it WON'T be more than a mild 'm', but I don't want to go overboard. (It's hard to write! I like emotions-- pure lust isn't nearly as easy to work with. Heh.) So if you have an opinion-- speak up! If not, it'll just be what I deem appropriate.


	7. No Wine Untasted

_**Sevenfold**_

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.  
_Date: August 13, 2006  
**Warning:** This bit is rated 'M'! Please heed this warning! Bad languages and sexual situations!

_**Red:**Lust_

Didn't being a multi-millionaire _and_ the CEO of a prestigious company bring with it the luxury of being able to do what one wanted to do?

Apparently not– if Kaiba Mokuba had anything to do with it.

In his infinite wisdom– having lived _so_ long and (with only a minutely undue amount of sarcasm here) having had so many life-altering experiences– he assured his brother that doing what one did _not_ want to do was character-building, noble... Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera– and a few other extraneous adjectives all aiming for one goal: get Seto to do what Mokuba wanted him to do.

Now, living with the man for any number of years had given Mokuba the necessary insight into the twisted, logic-loving entity that was his brother's mind. He was a manipulative master, and Seto could be counted on to, if nothing else, at least pretend that it had been his idea the whole time. (Though those unconditional surrenders were _so_ much more satisfying.)

So, owing to another of Mokuba's cunning plots, Kaiba Seto found himself surrounded by strangers, at an event he had absolutely no desire to attend.

It was Mazaki Anzu's birthday celebration. She was turning twenty-three.

Mokuba, who was still close to Anzu and her friends, had received an invitation early in the week. Almost as an afterthought, Seto's name had also been jotted down. And if they cared enough to invite him, then _certainly_ he had to attend. Originally, he had given an unyielding "no". But, conveniently enough, his schedule _was_ clear (though Mokuba swore up and down he had nothing to do with that), and his therapist (another of Mokuba's brilliant ideas) had told him that a bit more human interaction would be "good for him".

Which, of course, was how, against all his own plans and desires, he found himself standing against a wall and glaring at any unfortunate soul who dared to venture too near.

He had been there a full half-hour and already he was planning a daring escape. Or at least a commotion large enough to get himself politely asked to vacate the premises. He was all set for another round of glaring– which, by his standards, could qualify as an Olympic sport– when a young woman in a stunning red dress approached him.

To his mild surprise, it was the birthday girl herself. "Hello, Kaiba-kun. I wasn't expecting to see you here, but I'm glad you could make it."

He nodded curtly, hoping to end the conversation quickly. "Mazaki. Or... Is it Mutou by now?"

She blushed, her cheeks turning rosy pink. "N-no, Yugi and I aren't..." She cleared her throat. "We're certainly not married."

"Yet."

"Well..." She smiled at him. "Who knows what will come later. We are dating, but..." For a moment, she wore an expression he couldn't read. "I don't think either one of us is ready for a commitment right now."

Seto, to his credit, did not roll his eyes. He merely closed the to hold off the impulse. "Everyone knows the two of you are eventually going to end up together. Even in high school, you were practically inseparable."

Anzu grinned at him. "So even the great Kaiba noticed, huh? Yes, I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts of a sort. And we just... fit."

"Just fit? Hmm. I was expecting you to maddeningly passionate, snubbing me for being so hostile all those years ago, extolling his virtues to the one person in the room most inclined to doubt them."

At that, she laughed, and he found himself wondering if she had always been that easy to converse with. "I know you and Yugi never really got along, but I'm certainly not going to bore you with something like that– it is my birthday, after all, and I want everyone to have a good time." She smiled at him, a twinkle in her eye. "Even if I do suspect you're only here through Mokuba's influence."

He shrugged. "Be that as it may... I am here."

"Yes." She smiled again. "You are."

After that conversation, Seto suddenly found the evening _much_ more entertaining. He held his position on the wall, but whenever he could get a glimpse of her, he would watch Anzu. He saw her talking to a group of women, he saw her stop and press a kiss to Yugi's cheek, he watched as she laughed with Mokuba– probably talking about him, he surmised– and he couldn't help but stare rather fixedly as she chanced upon a refreshment table where a tray of strawberries was laid out. (Watching her eat a few had to be the first occasion in his entire life where he had rather wished he was a fruit. Specifically that red, ripe strawberry that was being bitten into with enough unwitting sensuality to make any sane, straight man run for a cold shower.)

And, unfortunately for Anzu– and Seto himself if he were the kind of man to care about consequences– Seto was far from _sane_. She was exquisite, and in that red dress she certainly had him conjuring visions enough to keep him insane for a good, long while.

About ten minutes later, he caught her glancing over in his direction once again. He quickly looked down so she wouldn't know he had been looking at her as well, and put on the most forlorn expression he could muster.

As pathetic as his attempts were, however, she was swayed. He soon saw the same legs extending from that same red dress walking over to him– and coming much closer than most mortals would dare.

"Hey," she said softly. "You look like you're absolutely miserable." He was almost impressed at her attempt to see to _all_ her guests.

"Really? I can't imagine why." He looked up at her, his face deadpan. "I'm having the time of my life."

Anzu laughed, her face rounding out in a wide smile. "Oh really? Then I can't imagine the dullness you've had to endure."

He just smirked rather dryly.

However, she quickly sobered. "Why did you even agree to come? I know you don't like any of us, and though Mokuba's persuasion can be fierce, you seem far from the type who'd let himself get pushed into something he didn't want to do."

"Well, I've found that it's much easier for all parties involved to cede to the milder requests. I'm the type of man who picks his battles."

"Ahh. Wise then, aren't you?" She smiled again. "Though, with a brother like Mokuba, I would imagine you'd have to be. He's quite a little, well..." She waved her hand around, searching for the right word. "Um, scamp, isn't he?"

It was Seto's turn to laugh– a deep, rich (if rare) sound. Finally, he felt that they both were truly at their ease. "That's putting it far nicer than he really deserves. He's an unmitigated _ass_, and the little fool knows it."

"Well said." She turned her head over her shoulder to look at her over guests, most still milling around. He wondered if she was getting bored with him. Finally, she spoke again. "Like I said, though, I'm surprised you came. I always thought you hated us."

"Well, Yugi and the mutt weren't ever my favorite people."

Once again, he had elicited a laugh. "That a polite way of saying you hate them?"

He smirked. "More or less. But you and..." He thought for a moment. "What was the other boy's name again?"

"Honda?"

"Yes. Him. You and _Honda_, apparently, never really managed to incite my displeasure quite as often as they did. Occasionally you would say something I didn't want to hear, but for the most part I could block both of you out."

She feigned hurt. "How nice. I wasn't even worth your notice!"

He smiled sincerely. "Well I'm noticing you now, aren't I?"

She seemed surprised by his comment. Her cheeks once again turned red. For some reason, Seto felt a strange surge of pride– that he could make her blush like that. It was a foreign– but not _entirely_ unwelcome– feeling.

In fact, as they spoke, he found himself encountering any number of foreign feelings. He, despite their history, was discovering something heretofore unknown: he was attracted to her– _very_ attracted to her. The only problem being, of course, he wasn't allowed to act on it. If she and Yugi were involved, then there was no chance in hell she'd ever spare him a second thought. He had spent years playing second fiddle to the shorter man, and– unfortunately– he knew that wasn't about to change.

They talked of Mokuba, their mutual past, their respective presents, and their hopes for their futures. To test the waters, Seto casually threw in a flirtatious remark or two, and– though he was sure it was unconscious– he couldn't help but be pleased when Anzu responded in kind.

"You know," he said during a pause, "I think your other guests are going to feel neglected. I've held your rapt attention nearly all evening and already we've been talking for far longer than I think either of us anticipated."

"You're right, of course, but..." She grinned. "Somehow I'm reluctant to walk away."

"I wouldn't mind."

She seemed rather offended. "Oh really?"

He smirked. "You look positively luscious in that red dress, and I wouldn't be at all opposed to the view."

She laughed, but managed to look falsely affronted, as though they were friends and he had been teasing her for years. "Why, Kaiba-kun, I don't know whether to be flattered or slap you."

The next few moments were awkward– they both knew that he had been serious.

Anzu cleared her throat. "And, well..." She looked nervously around the room. "I think I should be getting back now. Don't want Yugi to worry, or..." Her words faded away under his sweltering look.

She turned to go but he grabbed her arm to stop her. "Don't go," he said. "I thought you were enjoying our little conversation."

"I told you already– I'm dating Yugi. I enjoyed talking to you, but I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

"What 'wrong idea'? The only thing I'm 'getting' here is that you enjoy my company. Is that so wrong?"

"Stop saying things that are so inappropriate and we won't have a problem."

He raised an eyebrow, but finally released her arm. "Inappropriate? So I think you're a healthy, attractive woman. That's inappropriate... how?"

She frowned at him but didn't answer. Before she could gather her thoughts, he quickly came back with more. "Or maybe, you're _feeling_ inappropriate. You like being told you're attractive. You like knowing you can affect a man rumored to be asexual. You _want_ me to look at you. You–"

"Be quiet!" she commanded angrily. "And don't say things like that!" She looked around again, checking to see if their were being overheard. "Come on; if you're going to talk like that, at least do it out of everyone's earshot."

She took his wrist and led him out into a narrow hallway.

With a great glare, she turned to face him, her feet planted firmly and her arms crossed over her chest. He looked on with indifference. "Do I have your permission to speak now?"

She rolled her eyes. "If you must."

Seto shrugged. "I merely think that you're uncomfortable because you're attracted to _me_– and you feel guilty about it because you're involved with Yugi."

She huffed. "That's ridiculous."

A thin, elegant eyebrow raised in moderate surprise. "Really?" She nodded fiercely. He smirked. "Then prove it."

"What?"

"Prove it. Prove that you're not attracted to me." His smirk grew slightly more malicious. "Kiss me."

She seemed shocked. "What? No! You sorry bastard, I'll do no such thing! Kiss you– that's preposterous. I love Yugi and that's all there is to it."

"You mistake me," he told her lightly. "I neither doubted nor belittled your affection for said man– I merely put forth the opinion that–" He smirked again and made a small, sweeping hand gesture down his body. "You like what you see."

"Ass," she spat. "I'm not attracted to you. I never was and I never will be."

"Then why won't you refute my claims with a kiss?" She glowered fearsomely at him. He stepped closer. "I'll leave you alone– duelists' honor."

Hesitantly, she stepped forward as well. He knew she was curious; it only remained to be seen whether or not she would act on that curiosity. "One kiss?" she asked, tentatively putting a hand on his cheek.

Seto nodded. "One kiss."

They were leaning into each other, almost eager for what was to come.

"But then," she said, her eyes closing and her arms going around his neck, "you're going to eat your words."

"Kiss me," he whispered, his breath on her face, "and at your insistence I'll eat anything you want me to."

She laughed, but only for a second. Because in the next moment his lips had found hers. And by the next his arms were around her. And it only took her a moment after that to realize that he was a pretty amazing kisser and damn it all if that wasn't one of the best kisses of her entire life. He made her fucking knees _weak_; he made her heart pound and her eyes roll back in her head and the way his hands were gently, subtly exploring her body made her wonder just how far his skill could really go.

Suddenly, however, a vague sort of blond cloud began nagging at the back of her mind, and warning signals went off like mad.

"Stop!" she said, pushing away from him. "Th-that... I kissed you. That's all. So now... now I should... should go."

She took a step away from him, biting her lip, her face redder than her dress.

"That's all?" His voice was deep– and she knew she had gotten herself involved in something she really should have left alone. He moved towards her and put his hands on her waist. "You've left me hungry. I think I want a little more than a kiss."

"I told you," she said, something inside her body beginning to burn, "that I would pr-prove to you that I..."

"That you weren't attracted to me." He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. "But you are."

She jerked away, starting to feel angry. "That doesn't matter! I'm with Yugi, so leave me the hell alone!"

"I'm not asking for much." His voice was soft, and she couldn't help herself– she looked up at his face. That wasn't love she was seeing, but she had never, in all her life, seen a man look at her with that much _desire_. "One encounter. And then you can forget. I know you're curious. I know you're wondering. I know that, deep down, a part of you w_ants_ this."

"That's not... That's not true," she hissed, keeping her voice low. "I'm not–"

She gasped as he leaned in and kissed her again. He roughly grabbed her, pulling her body flush against his own, and his lips moved down to her neck. "Don't lie to me, Mazaki," he growled against her skin. "Don't ever lie to me."

"Why would I... w-would I..." She was cut off by her own moan. He smirked against her neck as he felt her hands twist themselves into his hair.

"Still not interested?"

She sighed. "I hate you."

"But you want me."

Her head fell back. "Maybe," she said, her voice no more than a breath, "but I fucking _hate_ you."

He moved away slightly and put his hands on her shoulders. "Good. Now find us a private place so I can make you _scream_."

Anzu lunged at him once more, kissing him with all the force of a raging storm. She bit his bottom lip, and pulled it gently between her own. After an eternity– or less than a second– she pulled away. Her eyes were clouded and dark, and her chest was heaving with her breath. "Follow me."

She grabbed his wrist and led him down the hall into a small room. There was a table in the center, with clutter against two of the walls. Anzu slammed the door and then stood with her back against it. She looked nervous.

Seto had long since passed– or never been through– the stage of nervous butterflies. The only heat he felt was from pure anticipation. "What now?" she murmured.

He smirked, already looking forward to touching her again. "Use your imagination."

She shuddered for a moment, the delicious possibilities racing through her head. "Fine," she said. She straightened up, and he recognized determination in her eyes. She kicked off her expensive heels and began walking toward him like a lioness would prowl towards an antelope. Seto found that the sensation of being hunted was not at all an unagreeable one.

He took of his suit jacket and laid it on the table. Then he kicked off his own shoes as well.

Anzu stopped when she got a foot away from him, the nervous feeling still not dissipating. He was in no mood to wait, however, and he pulled her to him, making the first move.

When their lips met, it was like something had _happened_. Something big– something undefinable. She tasted so sweet, like honey or ambrosia. It was heaven, and he wondered why he had never had the chance to taste her before.

Anzu's thoughts were somewhere along the same lines. She wrapped her arms around his neck, eagerly drinking in everything he gave her. Who would have guessed that she could have ever found such pleasure in a man like _Kaiba_? It was phenomenal. And the sensations only increased tenfold as he kissed his way down her neck.

Yes...

How did he know to kiss her _right there_?

How did he know she fucking loved it when his tongue moved just like _that–_ so slow, always _slow._

She moaned and fisted her hands in his pristine white shirt. The heat in the room was becoming unbearable. Why had she ever been hesitant? Why hadn't she jumped him the moment she had seen him? Oh yes, she was _definitely_ attracted to him– he was one of the most gorgeous men she had ever encountered. He had a beautiful face, with icy blue eyes that had hundreds of girls swooning every day. He had an absolutely amazing body, tall and lean, with a tight ass that he just _had_ to have worked for.

"I want you, Anzu," he murmured, tracing a finger down her cheek. "I _need_ you– right now, damn it, right this fucking second. His hands wandered down her body, stopping for a moment at her breasts, then landing on her hips, pulling them against his own. He kissed her again, with an unapologetic harshness that sent her blood racing.

"You want me?" she asked teasingly as he nipped at her shoulder, twining a piece of his hair between her fingers. He growled. "Do you really want me?"

"Don't toy with me," he rumbled, "I only say what I mean."

She took his head in her hands and pulled his face up to hers. "Then you better get ready, baby." She smirked and suddenly he found himself pushed against the table. The next thing he knew, Anzu was gone and there was a pair of small hands at his waist.

And then he felt his pants coming undone and being pulled down to his ankles and his boxers following and then: "_Oh God, that's her fucking _mouth_... Her mouth– warm, wet and so... fucking..."_

"Wonderful," he moaned, his hand fisting in her hair, pushing her further onto his cock.

He couldn't think– oh God, it felt so good– his eyes unfocusing, his head swimming, vision blurring, nothing coherent at all in his head. And then he was burning, burning, everything on _fire_, skin itching with warmth– blood boiling and that feeling of intense, wild _burning_. His head was back, neck extended, eyes closed– and he couldn't keep quiet: he was moaning, _moaning_ until every inch of his body was ready to explode and he was _on the edge, on the edge, on the edge,_ and–

"Yes... Fucking yes– Yes! Oh hell, Anzu, yes." His world fell apart, and his body was spasm-ing in utter ecstasy.

She watched him shudder, every muscle tight with feeling.

Anzu kissed his hipbone and stood up, wiping her mouth as she grinned at Seto. He glared at her lightly, his forehead beaded with sweat. "Get what you wanted?" she asked, hand trailing up his stomach. "Because believe me... I can give more."

He groaned again, his imagination running wild. Whatever had gotten into her... he liked it. "I think the question is whether or not you can handle it," he said darkly, tone ripe with invitation. "Because I'm not leaving until you're on your back, pulling at your hair, body throbbing, eyes rolling, _screaming_ my name."

She put her arms around his neck again and gave him a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. He was already unzipping her dress. "Well lucky me," she said lowly, her lips an inch from his, "someone's ready to play again."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Yugi tapped his knife on his glass to get everyone's attention. "Excuse me, excuse me everyone– could I have your attention please?" All the guests politely turned to face him. He smiled warmly.

"As you all know, we're gathered here to celebrate Anzu's twenty-third birthday." Everyone clapped and Yugi's smile broadened. "Well I haven't given her my present yet." He cleared his throat, and dug conspicuously into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a tell-tale black velvet box. "We've been together a long time," he said, "and I think it's finally time I did something I should have done a long time ago." He took a deep breath. "Mazaki Anzu, will you marry me?"

Everyone held their breath, waiting for her answer. But one never came. Heads turned all about the room, and it was then that someone noticed that Anzu wasn't there.

Yugi frowned. "Oh, um... Has– has anyone seen Anzu?"

"She's probably gone to the ladies room," the Mazaki matriarch said to her– hopefully– future son-in-law. "She'll be right back, dear, and you can give her the ring then."

Yugi smiled. "You're right. Thank you. I'm just... A little nervous, that's all."

She smiled. "Oh, don't worry, dear. I know Anzu will say yes."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

A very rumpled Seto emerged from the hallway a short time later. It had been set that Anzu would go first so that nothing would seem suspicious. He straightened up in the bathroom, then went back to the party. Yugi made his announcement again, and since Anzu was actually _present_ for the second time Yugi proposed, she could throw her arms around him and give him a heartfelt "yes". (And if her eyes did dart towards Seto, if even for a moment, no one noticed.)

The party didn't last much longer after that, and soon all the guests were headed.

"Well," Mokuba said as he and Seto walked out to their car, "that was fun." He grinned. "Aren't you glad you came?"

Seto merely glared at him. Mokuba's grin widened. "Come on, I bet you had a good time in spite of yourself."

"No. Actually, I didn't."

"Well whatever," Mokuba said. When they got to the car, he opened the passenger door and hopped in.

"But hey," he said as Seto cranked it up, "where were you? For the first half of the party you were just standing on the wall, but then you sort of... disappeared."

"Oh, you noticed?" Seto asked lightly. "I was getting a blow job from the bride-to-be in a spare room."

Mokuba choked on a breath of air. "WHAT! Seto, what the hell are you on?" He laughed. "God, you really had me there for a second!"

He laughed all the way to their home, never seeing the tiny smirk Seto couldn't ever seem to get rid of.  
**  
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**End A/N: THERE YA GO! Whew, that was hard! And the formatting WILL NOT WORK. Ugh. Anyway, I hope you liked it! Please review, I'm super nervous about it! Anyway, til "Orange:Gluttony". 

ILB


	8. ORANGE: Happy Halloween

**_Sevenfold_**

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: August 29, 2006

_**Orange:** Gluttony_

The first thing out of his mouth had been "Well. The costume certainly suits you."

Anzu had shrugged it off, having long since learned not to pay the elder Kaiba's insults any mind. Mokuba, however, was quite incensed. How dare his big brother be so cruel to Anzu! She made a lovely witch– and the costume was perfect because it was so very _un_-like Anzu's true character.

They had gone out to Yugi's annual Halloween/Costume party together, gathering up lots of candy and treats along the way. Mokuba was particularly thrilled– stuffed to the seams with sugar. He was the one who had invited Anzu back to the Kaiba home after the party, to share candy and tell ghost stories. Anzu had looked to Seto for an Ok, and how in the world could he deny his younger brother anything?

So there they were.

"You know," Anzu said to the brothers, "I am going to have to leave eventually." They had all taken turns trying to frighten the others with stories of ghosts and vampires and other creepy creatures of the night. Mokuba was already yawning, and it was getting rather later than she had intended on staying.

"Look at all that candy," Seto said. "Surely you're not going to let it go to waste." Then, to cover up what he had obviously meant, he said, "Or... If you're not going to eat it, Mazaki, then at least give it to Mokuba."

Anzu looked at the round, orange pumpkin bucket, still half-full with bars and bricks and sticks of confectionary delight. She grinned. "Me? Share all this candy? I don't think so." She laughed at Mokuba's pout. "I guess I'll just have to stay here until I eat it _all_."

Seto snuck her a smile. "Damn. I guess there's just no getting rid of you."  
**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**  
End A/N: Sorry it's so short, and that it took so long to post. I've been kinda busy lately. Hopefully you enjoy it anyway. Thanks (a hundred thousand thanks!) to the people who reviewed the last bit. It didn't go over quite as well as I had been hoping it would, so the few reviews I did get meant a LOT. Thanks! Til Orange:Sloth.


	9. I Just Called to Say

_**Sevenfold**_

Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.  
Date: Sept. 1, 2006

_**Orange:** Sloth  
_**xXx**

It wasn't like he had any sort of obligation to her.

"_Call me,"_ she had said, blushing as she handed him the hideously orange card.

Call her? She wanted him to _call_ her?

Seto really didn't know what to think about that.

Why should he do something so... so _normal_? While he did fit right in among all the corporate sharks of the business world, he was a stranger to the people his own age– adrift on the ever-changing sea of teenager-dom. He didn't go on dates; he didn't look forward to the parties and dances and exciting social events of high school. Apart from the female members of KaibaCorp, he was surprised he even knew what a girl was. Most people thought that he was too focused on his work to have a social life. (Which, of course, he was.) A slightly smaller number of people– though it was far from a _small_ group– thought that he was too cruel for anyone else to be able to put up with him. (And he had to admit that there was some honesty in that, too.)

Seto didn't have much social experience. In fact, some might be surprised to learn that when it came to romance, he didn't have any experience _at all_. He was still a virgin; he had never been kissed; he hadn't even had a girlfriend. (Or boyfriend, but in his case that wasn't really applicable.) So he had no idea what to say to Anzu! He didn't even know if he wanted to say anything to Anzu. He didn't go around _calling_ people willy-nilly– every action had a purpose in his life. He liked things that way.

What if she wanted to be friends with him? Or, as he could infer from her actions and expressions, what if she wanted to be _more_ than friends with him? He couldn't handle that! He didn't want to have to be by her side every moment, call her ridiculous pet names, have her call him ridiculous pet names, buy gifts for her on every occasion... He didn't want to have to tell her she was beautiful; he didn't want to get in a situation he was unfamiliar with. He had no idea what it felt like to hold a girl's hand, or have a girl peck him on the cheek– and if what he had heard was any indication, it was more trouble than it was really worth to find out!

"Call her," he muttered to himself, feeling a little cranky that she had already managed to occupy so much time in his thoughts. He sat down in front of his computer, intending to work on a program for his company's newest prototype gaming apparatus. But he was overcome with a wave of irritation.

"I can't call her," he rationalized. "I'm..." Oh where was a good excuse when he needed it? "I'm far too tired." He took a deep breath and stared at the computer screen. He suddenly didn't feel like working, either.

With a shrug, he got up and headed to the big living room to watch a movie. He sat down on the couch, the orange card from Anzu still tucked in his pocket. He took it out and looked at it, noting her neatly inscribed name, and the horrendously chubby animal adorning it. Why she had picked such a loud orange color was totally beyond him.

Seto set the card down on the coffee table. "Perhaps later," he said to himself. "I don't feel like going to get the phone now."

Yes. That's why he wasn't going to call her. He was far too tired. Laziness was alright if it only happened sporadically. He didn't _need _to call her. It was far too much trouble and would take far too much effort.

No matter how cute she had looked in that short skirt.

Seto growled. He wouldn't give in. He yawned and stretched out. A nap would help him forget about her– something he certainly wanted to do.

He looked at the card on the table, sitting there so innocently.

"Call her," he snorted. "As if I ever would."  
**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**  
End A/N: Thanks for reading, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed it. Sorry it was so short. I'll try to have "Envy" up soon! Oh, and the first reviewer to tell me what movie Seto was watching (hint: "Addiction"), I'll do a request for ya-- the color and sin of your choice, anything you want. Thanks again!


	10. Cut From the Same Cloth

_**Sevenfold**_

Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.  
Date: Sept. 14, 2006

_**Orange:** Envy_

**xXx**

Anzu glanced at her watch for the third time since leaving her apartment, then winced at what she saw. She was already running late. "Oh man," she muttered under her breath, pushing herself to run faster, "he's not gonna let me live this down."

She raced through the entrance to the park, making her way down familiar paths to the meeting point they had agreed on. He would probably already be there, impatiently waiting, a scowl on his pretty face. And maybe the sun would be golden and soft around him, and the wind would be gently blowing, and...

Anzu chuckled to herself as she cleared her head of those stray thoughts. She had no right to be thinking of him that way, not even though she was attracted to him. They had decided to be _friends_– a relationship would never work. She had already told him how she felt, and he didn't feel the same way. She was perfectly aware of how stupid it was to jeopardize their friendship by indulging in her little fantasies.

Her pace slowed as she neared the appointed spot. He was indeed there, sitting on the wooden bench with his legs crossed, staring at her with a frown. She couldn't help but let herself grin.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, walking towards him. He stood up to greet her, smoothing out the legs of his pants as he straightened up to his full height. She cracked a happy smile. "I was unavoidable detained."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure." His tone was dry, but she could tell that he was pleased to see her. "Shall we proceed?"

Anzu nodded happily. "Of course! I'm all pumped up from my run here, and a nice brisk walk is just what I need."

He didn't say anything, merely turning to the left and staring to walk down the path. Happily, she followed. He looked as good as usual, his hair perfectly in place, the deep chocolate jacket he wore– which she knew from experience was soft– making his fair skin glow. He was also wearing the fuzzy orange sweater she had given him for his birthday; it was thin, but the sales associate had assured her it was warm. It made something in her heart begin to heat up to know that he cared enough to wear her present.

He really looked beautiful in it, even if orange was one of his least favorite colors.

Usually their were silent on their walks, but Anzu had been feeling particularly loquacious earlier that day, and she lost no time in engaging him in an animated conversation. How was Mokuba? How was work going? Did the cold he had been suffering from finally go away? He'd respond in short, clipped answers, but occasionally he'd put forth an inquiry of his own. How was her dancing going? Was she enjoying her last year of high school? Did her father find a new job after having been laid off? They weren't the most lively of talkers, but it meant so much to Anzu that he'd even talk at all.

She didn't want to say she loved him. She knew that if she ever accepted that she did, then she'd never be able to face him again. He was a good man and a wonderful friend, but that was all he would ever be. He would never care about her like she cared about him– and she had learned to live with that. It didn't bother her much, not really– and not when she could at least spend time with him platonically.

But there were moments when she felt the barriers slipping.

There were moments when all she wanted to do was tell the world how she felt about him, screaming at the top of her lungs, leaping into his arms and having him hold her as she proclaimed that they were the happiest couple on the planet. She only wanted to be near him. As he went on a bit of a rant about another incompetent employee, she allowed herself to have a little sigh. How she wished he would talk that excitedly about her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye; he was thrown into the conversation, concentrating totally on what he was saying. It was painful, but it still made her heart flutter.

A sudden, strange thought floated up in her mind. If only he was wearing _her_ instead of the sweater– if only she were made of cloth instead of skin. Then she could wrap around him, soft and warm on smooth skin, touching every inch of his upper body, close to him every second of the day. It was absurd, but she had never in her life been more jealous of anything than she was of that silly orange sweater. It was so lucky– and not even alive to be aware of its luck! What would she give to be that close to the man she loved? To let fingers of thread course down his arms, being in a perpetual hug the whole day. And to be put on... He'd slide her onto his body, over his head– where she'd briefly finger through his soft hair– arms through the sleeves, adjusting and fitting until she was on him snugly.

Oh, she was sure he could wear her well.

However, her bout of jealousy was interrupted. "Anzu?" he called impatiently, trying to recapture her attention. "Anzu, are you listening to me?"

She shook her head a little, then flashed him a brilliant smile. "Oh, sorry. I just... spaced out for a minute there." She looked down apologetically. "I didn't mean to ignore you. Sorry."

He rolled his eyes– second time in just one day. "That's fine. I realize that your inattention wasn't purposeful." She nodded, and he restated what she had missed.

"_One day,"_ she thought hopefully, _"I'll tell you how I feel again– and this time you'll feel the same way. I don't mind waiting, not if you're my prize."_ She gave his stream of words half an ear as she glared fiercely at the stripe of orange peeking out around his neckline.

"_Damn sweater."_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

End A/N: I'm SO sorry this took so long to write, and I'm REALLY sorry that it sucks. Heh. Orange has been pretty hard for me; but I sort of expected that. Anyway, on to something fun! Yes, the movie Seto was watching last bit was "Breakfast at Tiffany's"-- and "Addiction" was the hint because in that fic that happened to be the movie he and Anzu watched on a particularly eventful date. Any reviewers who got it get a bit to themselves! Just ask for the color and sin of your choice in your next review. Actually, if any of my reviewers have a REALLY good idea they'd like to see, send it in and I just may take the inspiration. Thanks, and hope you enjoyed this goofy piece of fluff.


	11. Through the Eyes of Our Future

**_Sevenfold_**

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: Sept. 14, 2006

_**Orange:** Pride_

**xXx**

Big blue eyes stared up at the orange mass above her. It was exquisite– bold and bright and, oh, it moved: round and round and round and round. Glittering, sparkling, exciting interest as it spun like a miniature universe above her.

"Isn't she beautiful?" a soft– so familiar, wonderful, loving– voice said by her feet. Did the voice mean the beautiful orange and blue and whirling glittery mass of a world of suns and crescents above her?

The other voice, the one that was deep like water and rough and smooth and she knew it would protect her– it chuckled softly. "Beautiful?" She felt a new warmth near her. "There aren't... There aren't even words. She's _amazing_."

The smaller, maternal voice reached out a hand and twirled one of the sparkly orange suns. "I know. I can't believe she's ours. She's _ours_." There was a sudden outpouring of a new love. "I'm so happy. I don't think I've ever been happier in my life."

A swelling of pride came from the ocean-deep presence. "I know, darling. And we get to keep her." There was a collective sigh from the large ones, and she gurgled a little. "I couldn't be prouder. Our family– we've started a _family_. She's going to be as lovely as her mother when she grows up."

"Really? Then I bet she's as stubborn as her father."

The big blue eyes, still fresh, still new– tried to focus back on the universe that whirled softly above. "I think she's tired," the soft voice said. "I'll turn on her mobile and let her sleep. Do you want to get back to work?"

"I suppose I should. But don't hesitate to interrupt if there's an emergency."

A laugh. "I won't; don't worry."

And the big, warm, lovely hand moved and turned a knob and then something tuneful– if slightly mechanic– whirled around in waves in the air, and there was music, soft and low in the recesses of the ear.

The orange and glittery began to spin slowly. There was such lovely sound, such bright sights. The blue eyes shut, tired indeed.

Sleepy...

Sleepy...

There wouldn't be consciousness for much longer.

And feeling another rush and wave of encompassing, unconditional love as soft lips gently grazed her forehead, she fell slowly into a world of welcomed rest.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

End A/N: Wow, two in one day! I'm on a roll. Pretty cool, considering I had this idea about half an hour ago and just sat down and spit it out. Personally, I think it's tremendously adorable, but that's just me. I know Orange hasn't been nearly as good as Red, but review anyway! I need the encouragement.


	12. I'll Stop the World For You

**_Sevenfold_**

_

* * *

Disclaimer: I do now own yugioh._  
Date: Oct. 4, 2006

* * *

_**Orange:** Avarice_

* * *

The two men were petrified, glued to the floor by fear. 

There were many adjectives that could be used to describe their boss. Cold, for example. Or brilliant. Or extravagant. Or even sneaky.

But they never thought he'd be so damn frightening. His greed was raging out of control– why did he need to take over such a small company so badly? Yes, profits would increase, but people would lose jobs and it was really more trouble than it was worth. So why was he so adamant?

Kaiba Seto slammed his hands down on the big, wooden desk in front of him. The small, blue vase filled with bright orange flowers shook slightly from the force of the blow. He fixed the two employees before him with a ruthless, intimidating eye. "Do I pay you to question me? Don't you dare cross me! My word is law. My opinion is your opinion! I control this company and you will do what I say– and do it without question!"

The two men exchanged a distinctly nervous look. "B-but, Mr. Kaiba, sir–"

Kaiba leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with barely restrained aggression. "Do you really want to finish that sentence, maggot?"

The man's eyes widened and his mouth opened wordlessly. "I... I'm sorry, sir. O-of course I'll do wh-what..." He gulped and pushed his round glasses up with the heel of his hand. "It will be taken care of immediately."

Seto smiled maliciously, already anticipating his reward. The men backed away from his desk slowly, trying to curb the impulse they both had to run away as fast as they were able.

"This is so unlike him," one said quietly. "I mean... Yes, he always has to have his way, but I've never seen him so eager for a project like this before. It'll be some money, yes, but... That's never really been important to him. Why the sudden increase in greed? It's like the money's in his hand already!"

The other man nodded fervently. "I know! It's unnerving. Let's just put it down to another one of his idiosyncrasies and hope it passes." He wiped his brow. "Soon."

About a week later, Seto sat in his classroom before school had started, typing furiously and waiting for the day to begin. He just happened to overhear Mutou and his friends engaged in another loud, conversation.

"You sure seem happy, Anzu," Jounouchi said. "Why the sudden change in mood?"

Anzu grinned. "I've just had a pretty good week. You know how I told you how much I hated my new job, and how mean my boss was?"

They all nodded. "Uh-huh," Yugi said. "He sounded terrible!"

"He was," she agreed. "But anyway! Apparently, the company or whatever that owns the shop got bought out and taken over by someone else. And they send a new manager to each of the shops, so I got an awesome new boss! He's so nice; I bet working for him will be great."

"That's awesome!" Yugi said kindly.

"Yeah," Honda agreed. "Totally."

Jounouchi nodded. "Great."

A few rows over, Seto smiled. The flowers in his office were almost dead. He'd have to remember to go pick up some more later. And luckily for him, Anzu's shop was the only one in town that sold those exotic orange tiger-lilies.

* * *

End A/N: Hey, thanks for reading! School's been tough lately, so my free time has disappeared. I'll try to keep updating, but I've got so much else that I'm neglecting that it's only a matter of time before this gets put far on the back burner. I hope you enjoyed, and please review! 


	13. As Your Fingers Touch Your Skin

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: October 8, 2006  
**Warning:** rated a light 'T' for very, very mild bad language, implied nudity, an overactive imagination, and mention of things some people might do in showers - also beware of slightly abrupt ending (not really cliffhanger?)

* * *

_**Orange:** Lust_

Mokuba put his hands over his eyes. "Okay, Anzu," he said playfully. "I'm about to start counting. You better go hide!"

She laughed. "All right, I'm going!" She jogged out of the room as Mokuba began to count loudly.

"Where to hide?" she wondered aloud, casually scanning the surrounding area for a suitable place to conceal herself. There were lots of rooms, but she and Mokuba had been playing for hours and hardly any room was still unexplored. Suddenly, she found herself in front of the perfect place.

"Yes!" she said happily, scrambling into the room. All right; this is perfect!" The linen closet in the Kaiba brothers' second story bathroom had a large hollow space in the bottom just big enough for a grown up person to fit in. Anzu crawled inside and carefully eased the door shut. A thin crack of light shone through and Anzu grinned, sure that Mokuba would never find her.

It wasn't very cramped, and though she wasn't able to stretch herself out by any means, she could lean against the back wall and pull her knees up to her chest and be decently comfortable. She could even sit down cross-legged, though her knees brushed either side a bit.

After ten, long minutes, Anzu's confidence grew. Mokuba would be moving up to the third floor, the area reserved for only when no other hiding spot could be found. She decided to wait about two minutes more, and then she would stealthily make her way to the base. Her fingertips had just touched the door to push it open when she heard the doorknob turning.

Quickly, she pushed her body against the back wall and held her breath. Mokuba was looking for her! She laughed internally, sure that he'd never think to look amongst the wash rags and towels.

Worry rose, however, when she heard a metallic sort of sound. Was he locking the door? Did he know she was in there? The light shining in dimmed for a moment as someone walked past her hiding spot. Feeling slightly apprehensive, she sat there with her hand over her mouth, waiting for him to find her or leave the room. Nothing happened; she didn't even hear his usual mumbles that he made unconsciously as he searched. But then she heard something that made her eyes pop wide open and her heart to skip a beat.

"Mokuba" let out a deep, raspy sigh. "Damn it," a low voice said, "I really need some sleep."

The first thought– the _only_ thought– that leapt to Anzu's mind was that the person in the bathroom was definitely _not_ Mokuba.

Seto was supposed to be squirreling himself away in his office all day! Mokuba assured her that they wouldn't have to even see each other– Seto still hated her as much as ever, and she had no desire to face his cruel taunting if she didn't have to. But now she was trapped in a bathroom with him– and she had no idea how the hell she was going to get out of such a sticky situation. It was a bathroom, so the room certainly wasn't big enough for her to move about without him seeing or hearing her; and she was in the closet, so getting out would be a little bit of a chore. And the door was locked– even if everything else had been in her favor, there was no getting around that.

She had to all but clamp her hands over her mouth to keep from gasping as she heard the metallic sound of a belt unbuckling. It would have been bad enough for him to have had to relieve himself while she was in there (and listening), but to have him undress! That meant take a shower. That meant he'd be there for awhile. Which meant _she_ would be in there for awhile.

And oh God, what was she going to do if he needed a towel?

Anzu covered her face with her hands and tried to ignore the sounds of rustling cloth and zippers and the clink of the shower curtain being pulled back as the warm stream of water was cut on. However, she found that ignoring the satisfied moan that followed was slightly harder to do.

She was locked in a bathroom with the infamous Kaiba Seto. Not only that, she was locked in a bathroom with the very _naked_ Kaiba Seto.

Naked.

He had not one shred of clothing covering him.

Anzu's face scrunched up involuntarily as she tried not to groan. How in the world did she get herself into such messes? All she had wanted to do was play a nice game of hide-and-go-seek.

Suddenly, she heard him sigh happily. If she hadn't been utterly convinced that the man in the bathroom was him, she'd have said it was impossible for him to sound that relaxed. Anzu giggled internally as she pictured him sprawled languidly in a steaming bathtub, a silly grin upon his face. However, judging from the sound of the water, he was taking a shower not a bath.

She couldn't stop herself from wondering what he would look like without– she couldn't bring herself to ponder his unmentionables, so just without a shirt was fine. Was he muscular or skinny? Or was he really fat and he just wore something to hold it all in? Was his chest even paler than his face? She imagined that he'd probably be lean and well-formed, with just enough packed muscle to make any sane girl's eyebrow raise.

Unbidden, a picture of him, wet and warm under the spray of the water– wearing, of course, a strategically placed cloud of steam– popped into her head.

Well, she thought to herself, at least she had found a way to keep herself entertained. And picturing Seto dripping wet in the shower, those long, beautiful hands running down his body was certainly keeping her a little more than just entertained.

He always smelled fresh and clean, a citrusy sort of smell that reminded her of spring. He probably used some sort of body wash, orange-scented or something. She bit her lip as she imagined him pouring out thick, orange soap into his hand, rubbing it into lathering and smoothing it all over his body. She saw elegant hands running down a graceful neck, his head thrown back as he savored the sensations his own hands were producing. She saw soap suds sliding down his chest– his suddenly very firm, attractive chest– his hands following close behind.

And he'd have to wash his hair. The water would be pouring down on the crown of his head, wetting his thick brown hair, and she could see him breathing in a breath of steam, his eyes shut and his fingers tangled in the heavy mass on his scalp. Her own fingers itched as she watched him in her mind's eye, rubbing in the shampoo, kneading through his hair– she almost wished that she could do it for him.

A low, guttural moan suddenly filled the room. Anzu's cheeks heated up as she imagined what he might be doing that would make him sound like that. What a man did in his own shower was his business– but she didn't want to have to be in the same room while he did it. She gulped down a breath of air and tried not to think about what his hands might be doing then.

But what if _her_ hands were on his body instead? What if she could touch him, fingers sliding down wet soapy skin, slick and clean and smelling of oranges? Anzu shivered a little, fearing that she was enjoying the imagined sensations a bit too much. When would he be done? She had to get out of that bathroom!

And luckily for her, the water soon cut off. She was still so caught up in her little fantasy that she didn't notice the sound of wet feet padding towards her.

But then the closet door opened. And a pair of thick, wet, pale thighs met her big blue eyes as they snapped open in surprise.

"Oh my God," she whispered, unable to look away.

The infamous– and naked, he was also very _naked_– Kaiba Seto took a step back and glared at her.

"Mazaki," he said coldly.

She gulped, ready for the scolding of a lifetime.

His eyes narrowed a little and she scooted back the half inch toward the wall. He stared a moment longer.

"Hand me a towel."

* * *

End A/N: HA! Wasn't that ending just a kick in the pants? Hee hee hee. I really had fun with this one - writing it was a blast, and coming up with the idea was fun, too. I hope everybody enjoyed it! A big thanks to the people who reviewed the last bit. You make me feel happy! I have a pretty bad cold, so I'm probably gonna be stuck at home for awhile. Maybe I can get one or two more of this puppies written! Eh... we'll see, right? Thanks again!  



	14. I'll Be There for You

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: October 13, 2006  
**Warning:** This piece is rated 'T' for language and theme of (non-graphic) physical harrassment.

* * *

_**Orange:** Wrath_

* * *

It was the third time that week they had approached her. 

Anzu struggled to hold back tears as the four boys who had been harassing her circled around and started jeering at her once again. One boy pushed her; the one she bumped into grabbed her arms and forced them behind her back.

"Such a pretty girl," they cooed cruelly.

Pretty girl, pretty girl– she didn't want to be a pretty girl! Their hands were suddenly everywhere, thick and heavy and so, so intrusive; it made her stomach turn to feel them touch her, laughing and bragging and not caring at all that she wanted no part in their sick game. She wanted to be left alone! If only she hadn't decided to go to work a little early that day– otherwise she could have walked with Jounouchi and Honda. She worked near the arcade– which, as usual, was their destination.

But no. Because of one seemingly inconsequential decision, the bullies had cornered her again. She struggled fiercely, trying to pull away, but their hands held tight, gripping her arms hard enough to bruise.

"Please," she said weakly, her tears finally falling, "please let me go."

"Like hell we will," they sneered, groping her agin, pulling her bright orange headband out of her hair and ripping her fleece jacket off her shoulders. "You're not too good for us now, are you? Your little boyfriends aren't here to protect you, are they?" Anzu whimpered, her body going limp as she felt a hand slipping underneath her shirt.

"What's going on here?" a frigid voice asked suddenly.

The aggressors stilled, though they didn't let her go.

Anzu was surprised to see Kaiba Seto striding toward them rapidly. He looked livid, his blue eyes blazing with righteous anger. "What are you doing to Mazaki?" he asked, his face set in an expression of disgusted rage. "Get the hell away from her."

The boys laughed. "Oh? You have a problem with us, Kaiba? Well too damn bad– get your rich ass away from us and maybe we'll forgive the interruption."

Seto ignored them. "I don't think you heard me. Get the hell away from her."

"Aww, does the computer geek have a crush on the cheerleader? Well she thinks she's too good for one of us, so don't you dare think she could ever want you. We're going to teach the little slut a lesson she's not going to forget."

Anzu tried once again to pull away, struck with even more fear because of their callous words.

But luckily, the boys threats never came to fruition. Seto had walked right up to one of them and punched him as hard as he could. The bully was knocked to his knees, spitting out blood onto the grass.

Anzu took advantage of the others' shock and quickly pulled away. Standing a little apart from them, she watched as Seto proceeded to give them all the decking they so amply deserved.

Once he was finished pummeling them, they endured a savage telling off, and he sent them on their way with a warning to never come near her again. Anzu wiped her face as he walked over to her.

"Are you all right?" he asked gruffly.

Anzu nodded, not quite sure how to thank him for saving her.

His expression softened. "Good." He leaned down and picked up her headband, offering it to her with a look that could almost be called kind. With a hesitant smile, Anzu accepted it. "Tell me if they try anything again– I will be sure that they learn my wrath is even greater for second offenses." He looked at her for a moment as she gazed studiously at the graze. "Now go on home– or wherever you were headed. You're quite fine now, so don't let such cruelty and ignorance affect you."

"All right," she whispered. "And... Thank you. Thank you so much."

He had turned away, so she never saw his reaction to her words. "Think nothing of it. A man's not a man if he wouldn't have done the same."

* * *

End A/N: Moose! Aww, Seto's such a sweet guy - saving Anzu like that. Hee hee hee. Whoo - Orange is complete! I'm SO excited to work on my first yellow piece. I'm expecting great things, I tell you now! Oh, and a huge thanks to everyone who's reviewed - I appreciate it so much! And all the people who read or have added this to thier favorite or alert list... Man, you guys just rock out loud! Thanks, and til the next bit! 


	15. YELLOW: My Only Sunshine

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do now own yugioh._  
Date: October 14, 2006

* * *

_**Yellow:** Sloth_

* * *

The air felt wonderful, warm but not smothering - the epitome of what a spring day should feel like. The sun was out, great and golden in the clear blue of the sky. Even the clouds - the big, fluffy white kind that would never dream of raining on such a lovely day - seemed to radiate warmth and light. 

A family of three - a young girl and boy and their father - enjoyed the day; in fact, as the father had commented earlier, they couldn't have asked for better weather for their outing.

The sparse grass was soft underneath the children's feet, perfect for running and playing in. Their father lay, his cheek to the ground, the sunshine warm around him and the grass soft beneath him. On the outside, he seemed to be enjoying the day as much as his children were.

"Give me that!" the boy said angrily, trying to snatch a toy from the girl's hand. "I want to play; I want to play!"

"Mommy gave this to me," the girl said indignantly, her chubby face set in frown. "So I get to play with it! And she doesn't want me to share."

"That's not true!" the boy protested. "She said we always have to share; so it's my turn and I'm gonna play!"

The girl stuck her tongue out at him and sprinted away. He exclaimed angrily and immediately made chase. Their father listened indifferently, knowing that their behavior was inappropriate but feeling too lethargic to settle them down.

A breeze began to blow, and he shut his eyes.

"We miss you," he whispered to the ground, his hand stroking the petals of a proud yellow chrysanthemum. The air was humming with life and contentment, the warmth of the world lulling him into a state of complete inertia. "Everyday," he said lazily, a weary smile playing at his lips. He seemed near slumber. "Everyday," he repeated, a little more softly. "We miss you."

The voices of his children suddenly became louder, and he briefly considered chastising them for their irreverent behavior on such a haunting occasion in such a somber place. But they were very young, and it wouldn't do to dampen their spirits.

The two children continued to play while the father, to all appearances, continued to rest. The yellow sun still shone.

The man wasn't surprised to discover that he was crying. "Why did you leave us?" he said, his voice weak, too touched by the heavy hand of grief. "They're both growing up so fast. You need to be here to see them. You need to teach them– how can I instill good values in them without you here to keep me compassionate and caring? I've grown callous without you here– indifferent." His eyes squeezed shut even tighter, in a futile attempt to keep more tears at bay. "I don't want to live without you. I loved you– it took you so long for you to thaw my heart; why would you leave when I just began to truly warm up?"

He sighed. "I miss you so damn much; we all do. Why did you leave me?"

After his sudden outburst, he lay there silently, trying to enjoy the calmness and serenity of the atmosphere, while the gentle rays of sunlight gradually heated the exposed portions of his skin.

"Daddy!" the little girl called. "Daddy, Sano stole my toy! I want to go; he's being mean again!"

The little boy quickly rushed and caught up with her, both of them running towards their father. "That's not true! It was my turn. She... I found it in the grass! She wasn't playing with it anymore."

"Kids," he said tiredly, "can't you see your father is trying to rest? He's exhausted."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," the little girl said. "Are you still talking to Mommy?"

He bit back a new welling of tears. "Yes, Kaori. I'm still talking to Mommy."

"Oh." She sat down beside him, her short pigtails bouncing with her." She patted her father on the head. "Sorry, Daddy. Sano and I picked flowers for her, remember? Did you give them to her?"

It was only the third anniversary of her death, but the wound still felt new. Sano had only been two at the time of the accident, and already his memories of the loving, beautiful woman that had given birth to him were fading. Kaori had been four. Though she couldn't understand her father's pain, she knew that it was there, and tried in her own way to help ease it.

"Yes, baby. I gave her the flowers."

"I'm sorry for taking your kitty," Sano said quietly, sitting by his sister. He handed her the plastic tiger they had been arguing over. "I didn't mean to be bad." He looked at the gravestone in front of them. "Mommy's not gonna be mad at me, is she?"

"No, of course not son. You apologized."

Sano looked down gravely. "I miss Mommy, too, Daddy."

Kaori laid down next to her father, snuggling as he looped his arm around her. "Me too. I wish she was here."

"I know, baby. I know." He kissed the crown of her head. "I miss her just like you do, but we have to be strong for Mommy. She wants us to be happy."

Kaori sighed, and for a long moment they stayed there together, silently. It wasn't because he was still in mourning, utterly destroyed at the loss of his wife, that he stayed there– no, he just needed a nap. Sano yawned, and then lay his head on his father's back. All three were caught up in the peaceful, spring day, the warmth and sunshine easing them into a state of slothfulness.

"_I miss you,"_ he thought as he drifted off to a restless sleep, the children already halfway there. _"Anzu... Why did you leave me?"_

And the warm sun– great and golden– still shone in the clear, blue sky.

* * *

_: end bit :_**

* * *

Author's Ramble:** Well... When I said I really couldn't wait to write the next short, I must have seriously meant it! I posted the last one then immediately got to work on this one. As it's about twenty minutes old, I haven't had time to edit. (I'm bad about that.) However, I'm in love with this idea, and... Well, it didn't turn out exactly as I had hoped, but over all I think I came close to the effect I was striving for. That being said, PLEASE don't hesitate to review this one. I really want to know if it's good or not. And I'm not sure about the kid's names, either. But... hey, that's what I had planned, so I guess it sort of works. Anyway, I really, really hope you enjoyed this one (and the last one). I have yellow completely planned out, so with any luck updates will be quick!  



	16. Even Losers Can Get Lucky Sometimes

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: October 15, 2006  
**Warning:** rated 'T' for language

* * *

_**Yellow:** Envy_

* * *

"I just don't understand how he did it." 

The other boys nodded, all in total agreement.

"The guy's a geek!"

"A total loser."

"A guy like him just doesn't belong with a girl like her."

Once again, the others nodded.

Their leader, a popular baseball star named Takeshi, took a sip of sweet, cold lemonade that the chaperones had provided. He sighed. "What does she see in him anyway?"

Another of the guys, Shenji, immediately took up his friend's sentiments. "There's nothing to see! Maybe he's paying her. Bastard's rich enough, that's for sure."

"Yeah," they all chorused.

For a moment they were all silent, pondering the incomprehensible relationship of Kaiba Seto and Mazaki Anzu.

The two had started dating approximately three months earlier, even though Kaiba was notoriously anti-social, Anzu was notoriously anti-relationship and the entire school was completely against the idea of those two being a couple. High school romance was indeed synonymous with drama. Of course, no one had been more opposed than the trio of boys Anzu always hung around. Jounouchi in particular was quite vocal; he never hesitated to express his immense distaste, and his hate for Kaiba was, as hate went, surprisingly renowned.

"You know," Takeshi said, "maybe... Maybe there's a reason Anzu-san never dated before. Maybe there's... something wrong with her. Kaiba could be that desperate, you know."

"Or else _she's_ that desperate."

The others snickered.

"Well, he's not ugly, you know. I mean... Girls are weird, you know? I've heard that some of them think he's... well hot."

"Hot?" Takeshi seemed scandalized. "Kaiba? _Hot_? I shudder at the thought. He's... He's... Well he sure as hell isn't hot, whatever he is."

"Yeah," the smallest boy, whose name was Sado, chirped. He had been crushing on Anzu the entire year, and was the most disappointed when she had announced that she was "involved with Seto-kun now!" and very unavailable. "He's a total geek– on his computer all day. He probably can't stand being in all this sunlight; I bet it's hurting that puny body of his."

"That's the question, though, isn't it?" Tohru remarked wisely, laying back in the grass. "Is he puny? He always skips gym class, so we never see him changing or playing or anything."

"Like we would want to," Sado said with a pout.

Takeshi chuckled at his friend. "That's a possibility, I guess. What is under that tightly buttoned uniform: geek or god? He is pretty skinny– not much room for muscle there. And yet he's so damn popular! What do the girls see in him? Is it the money?"

"He is pretty attractive, like I said," Tohru told them. "My sister's in his fan club, and–"

"Oh God," Sado said, falling back at the sheer absurdity of it all. "He has a fan club? Just kill me– kill me now."

Tohru laughed. "Calm down there. I was going to say that the money's probably part of it. And the fact that he's a genius. And owner of his own company. Girls love a man with power."

"But he's so arrogant! I can't stand being around him, no matter how much his superficial qualities might recommend him. Are girls so stupid that they can't see past that?"

Takeshi nodded sagely. "The female sex is odd, indeed. Take it from a veteran of their charms."

Sado snorted. "You're so full of it, Takeshi. We all know you're still a virgin."

"Hey!" Takeshi hit him in the shoulder, hard. "Shut the hell up before I decide not to be so nice. I'm not going to take anything from the guy who can't even talk to a girl without pissing himself."

"Ass," Sado said, embarrassed. "And that's not even true."

"You guys are the losers," Shenji said. "Why are you discussing Kaiba, anyway? What's it matter? He's Mazaki's problem now."

"Well..." Sado pondered that for a moment. "He's still a geek."

"Yeah." Tohru grinned. "He probably has his name sewed in his underwear."

Takeshi grinned. "Let's not be mean. But he _is_ pretty obsessed with that Duel Monsters game. Too bad those cards are the only friends he has."

"Yeah, and I bet he cries when Mutou beats him."

"Hell yes, he does. He's such a dork."

"He probably sleeps with a nightlight."

"And some sorry little teddy-bear or something."

"No, that's not Kaiba, Sado, that's you."

"Shut up! You're an asshole, you know that?"

"That's not what your mom said."

"The hell! You leave my mother out of this, you stupid bastard, or I'll–"

"Guys!" Takeshi said finally, sick of the arguing. "It doesn't matter! Let's just forget about Kaiba and–"

"Forget about Kaiba? What about Kaiba?"

They turned to see the person who had spoken and came face to face with Kaiba Seto himself. Sado gulped and scooted behind Shenji. He looked faintly annoyed, wearing his usual cold, angry expression. For once, he seemed to be wearing normal clothes– a tight black sleeveless top and jeans. The boys were dismayed to find that if his arms were anything to judge by he seemed to be in better shape than they thought– in _much_ better shape.

"I'm going to pretend you weren't talking about me and instead continue to ignore your pathetic existence." He paused a moment to see their reaction. "But Anzu wants lemonade. Where is it?"

Tohru, who could never pass up an opportunity to inform, pointed towards their left. "Arisawa-sensei has it. She's passing it out to those who want some. Better hurry before it's gone."

Kaiba grunted. "Right. And don't let me catch you talking about me again or I'll have to kick your sorry asses. That would be an inconvenience, and I really don't want to have to see you cry." He gave Sado an especially withering glare. "Anzu's mine, you pathetic little swine. If I catch you looking at her one more time like you want to undress her..." For the first time since they had meet him, they saw Kaiba Seto smile. "Then I'll kill you. Have a nice day, ass wipe."

He walked away, and they watched as he got two glasses of lemonade and headed back towards where he and Anzu had been sitting. He smirked in their general direction and they– Sado particularly– were incensed to see him give her a _very_ affectionate greeting.

"What was that for?" Anzu asked as her boyfriend finally pulled away. "Not that I mind, of course, but I know how you feel about public displays of affection."

Seto shrugged as he handed her the glass of lemonade. "No reason. Do you have any idea how lucky I am to have you?"

Anzu laughed. "You lucky to have me? I'd say it's the other way around! All the girls say they wish that they were me, and that they could have gotten your attention before I did. They're really jealous."

Seto chuckled to himself. "They're not the only ones." He kissed her again, feeling a sense of male pride to have such a beautiful– and very desirable– girl in his arms. It wasn't as though it was a foreign sensation, but once again it felt damn good to be the most envied man around.

* * *

_: end bit :

* * *

_**Author's Ramble:** There we go! I hope everyone enjoyed it. I REALLY hope that I accurately portrayed the guys. I'm a girl (as if that wasn't obvious), so I always get a little nervous when I write mostly males. However, I doubt that I even accurately portray my own sex, so I'm not too worried about it. Didn't detract from the fic, though, right? Heh. I'm not sure you can expect the rapid pace of updates to continue, but I do post almost as soon as I write them. (I did go back and edit this one a little!) Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed the last two bits (esp. Azurite, who inadvertently gave me the idea for this one), and THANK YOU in advance to anyone who reviews this one. (Notice I don't beg. I can look REALLY, REALLY sad (hint hint hint), but I don't beg! Heh.) Azureshipping forever! Hee hee hee. 


	17. Before a Fall

**_Sevenfold_**

_

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: November 8, 2006  
**Warning:** very slight bad language (A/N: in third person limited, through Mokuba's eyes)

* * *

_**Yellow:** Pride_

* * *

He saw most of the fight. 

The yelling had woken him up early that morning, when the sun was just barely in the sky. The sound of breaking glass had then convinced him to get out of bed. After checking his brother's bedroom and seeing the comforter still as neat as when the maids arranged it, he had crept downstairs to see what the commotion was.

And, just as he had suspected he would, he saw Seto and Anzu having another fight. And the shards of a once-beautiful yellow vase were a tell-tale sign that he had made her angry enough to chuck something at his head. Mokuba had strained his ears, trying to discover what the cause of the fight might have been.

"No, I don't want to hear any excuses," Anzu had yelled. "I'm sick of this– I'm sick of you!"

"Anzu, you're being ridiculous."

"No, Seto, _you're_ being ridiculous." Mokuba had seen her stomp off out of his line of sight, only to reappear moments later with an overstuffed suitcase in her hand. "And I'm sick of it! Whatever you might have thought or imagined– whatever ill-founded accusations you might have wanted to make– there was no need to do so in front of my parents! How could you do that to me! What will they think?"

"Anzu, I wasn't entirely myself then. I–"

"I'm perfectly aware of that, Seto. But you wouldn't say that when you were drunk unless you had been thinking it when you were sober. And no, I'll tell you again– I have never and I will never cheat on you! I can't even believe you'd think that."

"What conclusion was I supposed to draw? You were flirting with him shamelessly. Perhaps you weren't planning on ever sleeping with him, but he obviously thought that you wouldn't mind one day warming his bed."

"Damn it, Seto, that is total garbage and you know it. I never had any interest in him whatsoever. You were wrong. I'll admit, I may have unintentionally given off the wrong impression. I can admit when I did something that perhaps wasn't the wisest thing ever. But you... Oh no, _you_ are infallible! Nothing you do is wrong! Nothing you think could possibly be nothing more than prideful, jealous conjecture. The great Kaiba Seto doesn't make mistakes, does he?"

"No, he doesn't," Seto had snapped back fiercely, "so how do you think I feel when–"

"At this point, I don't care how you feel. I would have forgiven you easily if you weren't so damn proud. Why can't you apologize? It hurt me that you would even think me capable of infidelity. I wouldn't be with you if I wanted another man. But can you appreciate my feelings? Do you care at all? No! All you care about is proving yourself right! I can't take that."

Mokuba sighed. What a way to spend a morning. The yelling continued, but he didn't stay to watch it. Anzu was obviously leaving, and Seto was doing nothing to convince her to stay. Shaking his head at his stubborn brother, Mokuba headed up to the second-story office and Seto's private line. Anzu was right– Seto had enough pride for two or three men. And if the emotionally crippled genius wouldn't do anything to rectify the situation, it was up to the charming younger brother to save the day.

The office was a mess– probably Seto's brooding cave of choice. A half-full bottle of liquor stood on the desk, a cup filled with golden poison sitting daringly on a pile of KaibaCorp documents. With a sigh, Mokuba picked up the phone and dialed a number that had been memorized since Anzu had moved in.

"Hello? Yes, this is Kaiba Mokuba. I'd like to place an order for a delivery to a Mazaki Anzu. Yes, just like last time: two dozen yellow roses. Oh no, not from me. Yes, they had another fight. She might be leaving for good unless I can convince him to apologize. Thank you. And yes– make up a card from Kaiba Seto, please."

* * *

_: end chapter :

* * *

_**Author's Ramble:** Hey, thanks for reading! Sorry it took me so long. Heh. I'm sure all of you know how it is: school, tests, band, life... Heh, no really though - mostly I'm just lazy. I've been having some tough times lately, so I sort of lost my spark. Thanks for reading, though, and I hope everyone enjoyed. I'm getting back on track! Hee hee.  



	18. A Girl's Best Friend

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: December 29, 2006  
**Warning:** slight bad language, general suckiness

* * *

_**Yellow:** Avarice_

* * *

"You shouldn't do that, Seto," Mokuba chided playfully. "Think of your health." 

Seto turned to glare at his brother. "Do you really think I give a damn about my health?"

Mokuba sighed. "Well, with those twenty-_five_ hour days you pull, and the high stress position you have in the company..." He glanced over to his passenger. "Would it really hurt to take better care of yourself?"

Just to spite his brother, Seto took another long drag of his cigarette.

Mokuba frowned. "I'm not kidding around Seto, that's bad for you. And if I'm driving, then I get to say whether you smoke or not."

"Hey kid..." Seto looked at Mokuba, one eyebrow raised, daring him to say something else. "It's my car."

Mokuba sighed, not up to fighting with his brother. "Fine Seto. But when your lungs fail you and you're hospitalized for years, finally dying and leaving me to inherit your empire, then I'll remember what you said."

Seto rolled his eyes. "Great. I'm looking forward to it."

Ten minutes later, they arrived at their destination: the Domino City Shopping Complex. Mokuba parked the car and they walked into the bustling building, ready to make their purchases. "So," Mokuba asked lightly, trying to tread carefully around his brother's rather unpleasant mood. "What are you going to be buying today?"

Seto sighed. "A present for Jacqueline's birthday."

Mokuba groaned. "What? And you had to drag me along? That's true cruelty, Seto - _true_ cruelty. I hate shopping for other people's girlfriends."

"Stop it. I thought you liked her."

"Well... Well I do, I guess, but that doesn't mean I want to be here while you search for..." Here, he batted his eyes in the exaggerated impression of an infatuated female. "_Perfect_ present."

"Shut the hell up," Seto commanded gruffly. "It's her birthday - I can't just get her a... a card or something. Apparently, it's more meaningful to her if I pick it out myself."

"Super," Mokuba muttered sarcastically. "But she didn't even ask for homemade? You could have set those priceless stones yourself."

"Yes," Seto said, trying to head off what he knew would lead to an argument, "she has expensive tastes. But I'm a very wealthy man." He glared at his brother. "It's a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Mokuba raised a skeptical eyebrow. "_Mutually beneficial_? Well I've got one thing to say, Seto... The sex must be _great_."

In an uncharacteristically charitable gesture, Seto ignored him.

The two men rode an escalator up to the second floor, and walked through the crowd until they reached a small, tidy-looking jewelry store. "Why did we have to come here?" Mokuba grumbled. "The Kaiba name has power, and we're obscenely wealthy - couldn't you just have called in an order?"

"I know the owner." Seto said tersely. "He's been retired for about twelve years and he only works on a few, select pieces himself. It's best to see him in person."

They walked in and were immediately greeted by a thin, greasy-looking salesman. Mokuba didn't bother listening to the exchange, and only barely noticed when a small, elderly looking gentleman walked out of the back room.

"I'll see you at the car, Seto," Mokuba said, having no interest in talking business. "Call me if you can't find me." He walked out of the store with a swagger, leaving Seto alone with the clerk and the owner.

"You've come for something special then, have you?" Seto nodded and the man seemed to smile. He put a velvet box on top of the counter. "Here - have a look at these pieces then. My very finest." He opened the case, and three rows of dazzling jewelry winked back at all those gazing at them. "All right sonny," the man said, rubbing his wrinkled hands together. "Let's see if you've got a good eye."

Seto scanned the array of necklaces, bracelets and rings casually. Jacqueline preferred gold, he knew, so... Something tasteful and elegant... Maybe with diamonds, and...

His eye caught on a silver necklace with a brilliant blue sapphire and Jacqueline flew right out of his head.

Immediately, he thought of Anzu. And he promptly berated himself for it. He wasn't supposed to be thinking of her! He had begun seeing Jacqueline to try and get the dancing minx out of his head. He had forbidden himself from thinking about her; he didn't even allow her to be spoken of. Mokuba thought it was due to pure hatred, but... Seto didn't hate her. In fact, he was a bit more interested in her than he cared to admit. But she was betrothed! Ahh, he could have kicked himself a thousand times - he _should not_ be thinking about her! They had shared one meaningless moment - just one! And he hadn't thought of her before that moment, and he certainly shouldn't be thinking about her after it.

He had... He had Jacqueline. No, he didn't love her, but she was brilliant and beautiful and her father was one of the most prestigious businessmen in all of France. They made a perfect match - he was lucky to have her. At least that's what everyone had told him, over and over again. He supposed they were correct. Jacqueline was beautiful, rich, well-connected, intelligent... In fact, the woman was as near to perfect as a human could be. She put up with Seto's arrogance, she knew how to be discreet, she was strong-willed enough to keep from getting walked on... Any man, even one like Kaiba Seto, would be lucky to have her.

So why did another woman invade his mind so often?

He blinked and his eyes shot over to another piece in the case. As long as he avoided the sight of the sapphire, he would be fine and Anzu would leave his mind completely. Except she didn't. And though he wouldn't admit it, she wouldn't leave his mind no matter what he did. His fingers ran over the silver chain of the necklace. No matter what he did...

It would be so easy to buy both the sapphire necklace and a necklace of gold for Jacqueline. It would be _too_ easy. He could own them both with no trouble at all, with barely any sort of dent in his wallet. It was greedy, he knew, but he longed for them. The safety and certainty of a future with Jacqueline, and the wild warmth and passion he knew came with Anzu.

"This one," he said decisively, pointing to a tasteful gold necklace with a pendant made of three diamonds.

The old man smiled and nodded. "Yes, excellent choice." He looked to the cashier. "Give him whatever he wants. Prices should be in the book." And after his final word, he creaked back into his dark room nestled in the back of his shop.

Seto watched as the clerk took out the necklace and laid it on some white tissue paper. Jacqueline deserved his whole heart _and_ mind, not just a portion. Guiltily, he looked at the other pieces. "Wait," he told the clerk sharply, "I'd like..." He pointed to another necklace. "I'd like that piece as well." He saw a ring, set with two diamonds and an emerald. "And that ring as well."

The clerk's eyes widened, but he said nothing. "All right, sir, if that's what you want."

As the jewelry for Jacqueline was being wrapped up, Seto picked up the necklace with the sapphire that reminded him so much of _her_. For a moment, he hesitated.

"Excuse me, sir," the clerk said. "Would you... Will you be purchasing that as well? It's..." He cleared his throat, trying to be tactful. "Well, sir, it's very expensive and you have such a... large tab already."

Seto glared at him angrily. His eyes shot blue fire and the clerk trembled under the dark, angry gaze. "I assure you, I can pay it. In fact, if I so chose, I could purchase this whole damn store." His hands clenched into fists. "However, I'm not feeling particularly avaricious. For now, my greed has been checked." His eyes narrowed and his piercing gaze sharpened. "Ring me up. Now."

"Of course, sir," the clerk said obligingly, breaking out into a cold sweat at such a frightening customer. The total was as high as the clerk had warned, but as Seto had known he could, he paid it with ease.

Taking the bag full of black velvet boxes, he stormed out of the store, cursing his own greed with every step.

Necklaces and rings were one thing, but just because he had a stone that reminded him of Anzu didn't mean he was any closer to the woman herself. It was a meaningless gesture anyway - he had Jacqueline and no matter how much he might long for Anzu, he was happy with Jacqueline. She was the real thing, she would be there when his silly crush had abated, and she was worth all the money he had spent on the jewelry. He had done that for her because he genuinely cared about her, not because he felt guilty about - what did Mokuba call it? - _mind_-cheating on her. Even if it was an enormous sum...

"Jacqueline," he murmured to himself as he headed to find Mokuba, "you had better appreciate this."

* * *

_: end chapter :

* * *

_**Author's Ramble: **Wow, this was a LONG time in coming. Over a month. Yeesh! Sorry about that. (laughs sheepishly) Um... yeah. This is sorta kinda maybe might-be a follow-up to "Red: Lust", but... well, that was one isolated encounter and it was only supposed to be about lust, so... I didn't really go with that. Imagine it if you want, though, because the situation would be... er, pretty similar to this. Yeah. Heh. I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for all the reviews I've gotten up to now! What is it - 118? Wow! Ya'll rock. Happy hols. Next bit SHOULD be up Jan. 3. 


	19. Best Served Cold

**_Sevenfold_**

**_

* * *

_**_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: December 30, 2006  
**Warning:** none, but shorter than usual

* * *

_**Yellow:** Lust_

* * *

No matter what she did, the shadow was always there, looming over them. 

She had been a consolation prize. At first, she had convinced herself otherwise, convinced herself that he cared about her more than anything, that he genuinely wanted her - but that was a lie. He had accepted her, taken her when there was nothing else for him to take. Yes, he had grown to care about her, grown to accept her love, but if ever his own feelings were called into question he would be the first to deny any lasting relationship - and the first to deny that he had merely settled for second place, with her as his only prize.

And only she knew how he dreamed of one day becoming the champion. Only she knew how manically he still pursued his goal, practicing hour after hour in scenario after scenario, hiring strategists and analysts and making plan after plan... Hoping, dreaming, _knowing_ that he could one day become the world's top duelist again.

Any relationship they might have had was in shambles, held together only by her fierce, blinding love. She would watch as his eyes burned with his lust for revenge, his inner fires stoked, his passion for victory working him into a manic frenzy. He was never that passionate with her - never more than lukewarm or cold.

She did her best to hold it off, but it was hard not to feel resentful. The only man she ever truly loved was blind to that love, and her relationship with her - former - best friend was ruined, because he was a better duelist than her lover was. Day after day she watched him seethe, aching for a chance to overthrow the champion and "reclaim" his rightful title.

He would never learn to love her. They would never be happy together. And all because of a short, kind-hearted boy with spiky yellow hair, who dueled with his heart and couldn't be beaten.

* * *

_: end chapter :

* * *

_**Author's Ramble:** Yah! Another one up already. A lust for revenge - oho, bet you weren't expecting that! Yeah... (sighs) I'm not feeling very good today, so I've been writing to... well, for lack of anything better to do. I actually like this bit a lot, even if the ending was weak. (That's what I have the most trouble on! For some reason, I can't seem to write a really strong ending.) The yellow in this one was rather obvious (Yugi's hair), but I thought it worked well. Heh. Even if this isn't my best work writing-wise, I like the idea a lot and this is probably one of my favorites. Well! Yeah, I'm trying to make up for not posting in so long. Heh. But here's my new plan: 

Since I'm such a procrastinator, and I waited so long to do Yellow: Avarice, I'll post Yellow: Wrath as soon as chp. 18 and 19 each get four reviews. That's not so bad, right? (And it'll give me a chance to get to work on Y:wrath... Heh.) So, if that happens today - there'll be a new bit up! In a week, well, then it'll be up then.

Hope everyone enjoyed this! Heh.


	20. Pineapple, Anyone?

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: January 5, 2007  
**Warning:** rated 'T' due to language, brief nudity

* * *

_**Yellow:** Wrath_

* * *

There was a duelist-only preliminary round first, they had said. In a few days they would fly out to join him, they had said. 

But there was no dueling tournament, no _preliminary round_, and he was certain that they wouldn't be flying out to join him because they must have known that the moment he saw them he was going to kill them. No one sent Kaiba Seto to a foreign country with no money, no connection to KaibaCorp. - and a suitcase full of... full of... Clothes of the very, very, very _non-_trench coat variety - unless they were ready and willing to suffer a drawn-out, painful _death_. Well, he had to mentally amend, no one but Mokuba - and Mazaki, apparently.

Perhaps death was a rather severe punishment, but holding up the loud, bright-yellow, hibiscus and parrot printed shirt Mokuba had provided him with... Well, their deaths seemed like the very _least _he could do. The lime green shirt that followed, while vaguely less offensive to any sense of style he had, only added fuel to his fire. As did the two sleeveless shirts - that Mokuba must realize he would _never_ wear - the two pairs of blue and white bathing suits that were obviously supposed to serve as shorts, and the thonged sandals that, while obviously shoe-like, would not serve as proper cover for his feet at all.

Not to mention the nice little note telling him to _have a good time_ and _enjoy himself_.

His traveling clothes were sweaty and wrinkled - and altogether completely uncomfortable. He would have to change if he wanted to go out, and he certainly wanted to go out - even if there wasn't a dueling tournament to attend, Seto had no desire to be stuck in his hotel room _all day_. Which meant that is time for the hideously yellow, hibiscus and parrot printed shirt - that was as much a punishment to the ones who saw it as to the one wearing it - to finally make its first grand appearance in public. Paired with _blue_ shorts and black flip-flops (that Seto was sure felt as cheap as they looked).

He took a quick shower to rid himself of the grime of his trip, then - quite reluctantly - put on the atrocious outfit his brother had packed for him.

It did not look good.

And just as he pondered the price of mirrors and whether the hotel would _really_ mind if one broke, there was a knock on his door. Muttering words under his breath that only the most seasoned sailors knew, he stormed over and wrenched it open.

"What," he asked venomously, his voice dripping with acid and ill-temper, "do you want?"

The only thing the offending knocker did was meet his words with a cheery smile. "Aloha, Mr. Kaiba! Welcome to Grand Resort!" He held out an arm full of white, fluffy towels. "Is your room to your liking? I have towels if you need any!"

Seto stared at him, as though trying to decide which method of homicide would be the most effective.

The man's smile widened. "And, as a very special treat..." His smile turned to a happy grin as he held up a plate and a large yellow pineapple. "I have pineapple! It's complementary for our higher class guests. Would you like - "

"No." Seto glared. "I would _not_ like any pineapple."

"That's fine," the man said, his attitude far too chipper for someone receiving the sort of glare Seto was giving him. "And... the towels?"

Seto glared at them suspiciously before snatching them out of the man's hand. "I suppose those might come in handy."

The man nodded. "Very good, sir! Well, if you need anything don't hesitate to let us know! We are here to keep our guests as happy as possible." And with another 1000-watt smile and a wave, he was off down the hallway, whistling a merry tune as he went.

"Repulsive," Seto muttered as he shut the door. He shook his head and threw the towels on a chair by the door. If he was going out, then he might as well get going - with no wallet there was little he could do. In the pocket of his trunks, however, he had found a ticket for an island bus tour. Mokuba's idea of "fun" obviously.

With a sneer, he headed out, hoping that his murderous urge would be curbed by the time he returned.

To his great dismay, it was only augmented.

The tour had been on a bus, and it had been hot. And unpleasant. And filled with bugs - and other _tourists_. If there was one thing Seto abhorred - apart from all the things he abhorred normally - it was tourists. They were noisy, ignorant, annoying, and there were always far too many of them.

He could have ignored the massive dose of humanity, however, had it not been for one irritating little instance - he had been recognized. So not only did he have people huddled around him in awe, he had them all asking for autographs and speaking to him as though he didn't understand English. It would have been quite a bother under normal circumstances, but if _any_ of those bastards had used a camera on him...

Well. He'd just be doing his part to stifle the over population.

So, with the proverbial storm clouds hovering over him, Seto made his way back to the hotel. Mokuba had, thank every ounce of good sense the boy had, set up a tab so Seto could, at least, eat. The hotel had a diner, a fancy restaurant, and a karaoke bar. Seto grabbed something from the diner - spam? What the hell was _spam_? - then headed directly back up to his room. Though he wasn't any more pleased with his situation, his hunger was gone and - just to perk him up - he thought he had made the small boy who had run into him getting out of the elevator cry.

He had his cell phone, but it hadn't done him much good - Mokuba had, apparently, told all the KaibaCorp. employees that he didn't want to be disturbed, and they weren't even to answer the phone if he called. However, _Mokuba_ could be reached, and a good chewing out was exactly what Seto needed to cheer him up.

So he dialed the number and waited for the unsuspecting victim to answer.

"Hello? This is Kaiba Mokuba speaking."

"_Hello_, Mokuba. This is Seto."

Nervous laughter came over the line. "Seto! Wow, great to hear from you! Are you enjoying yourself? Having a good trip?"

Seto growled. "Enjoying myself? Having a _good trip_? Mokuba, you sure as hell better be glad that your ass is still in - "

"Whoa! Calm down there, bro." Mokuba laughed cheerfully. "What's the problem? I thought you said you were looking forward to the vacation."

"No. I was looking forward to the dueling tournament you said you signed me up for. But Mokuba... There was no dueling tournament!"

"Really? No dueling tournament? Well fancy that. I'll make sure to get your money back."

Seto tightened his grip on the phone so much the plastic body was strained. "Mokuba, I - "

There was a knock on the door.

Seto growled again. "Give me one second, Mokuba - this conversation is _not_ over." He marched over to the door. "What the hell is it?" he snarled, pulling the door open with enough force to nearly knock it off its hinges.

Another smiling hotel employee faced him. "Hello, sir. As a distinguished guest, it's our pleasure to provide you with all the comforts of home and many extra perks to make your trip an enjoyable one." She held up a pineapple. Seto's eyes narrowed dangerously. "And since you're such an illustrious personage and we're so very honored to have you staying with us, it is my honor to present you with - "

"I have been over this once already," he said slowly, his voice soft. The spring coiled tighter and tighter - and if it went off... "I do not want any pineapple. I _will not_ want any pineapple. And if you do not get out my sight this instant, I am going to take that pineapple and see how much _you_ want it after I am through - "

"I'm sorry, sir!" she yelped, not at all interested in hearing the rest of the threat. I'm sorry! So sorry! No pineapple - got it; not a problem. Goodbye. Have a nice stay!" And with that shrill farewell, she walked off down the hall as fast as her legs could take her.

Seto glared at her retreating back, hatred in his eyes. The management would be receiving an anonymous call once he got home, that was for sure. Shutting the door and bolting it, he once again picked up the phone.

"Mokuba?"

"Yeah, still here, Seto. What was that about?"

Seto grit his teeth. "_Nothing_. It was nothing. Now, I want you to explain to me why you pulled this stunt, and tell me when I am getting off this damned island."

"Well even though that dueling tournament was cancelled - "

"Not cancelled. You deliberately deceived me."

Mokuba ignored him. "You have reservations for another four days! Just enjoy the time off - you really need it, you know. And besides, I'll be coming out to stay with you soon!"

"Yes, about that - when you and Mazaki c-"

"No, Anzu's not flying out with me."

Seto didn't speak for a moment. "What?"

"Ahh! Yeah, guess I should have mentioned earlier. It's just gonna be me. Sorry about that, Seto!" Before his brother could respond - and in all probability threaten him - Mokuba quickly said, "And I guess that's it, then! Well I'll be out there tomorrow night. Have fun til then! See you soon. Bye!"

And then Mokuba hung up and Seto was standing there with the phone to his ear, listening to the dial tone.

Things just kept going so _well_. There was nothing to do. Seto certainly wasn't venturing outside the hotel again; it was getting late anyway, and most things would probably close before he found a way to get money and then transportation to the appropriate place. He glanced at the mirror and to his disgust, realized he still wore the hideous yellow shirt. The parrots were laughing at him.

With no undue amount of gusto, he unbuttoned the shirt and threw it onto the carpet. He still had the coat he had worn on the plane, so he could wear one of the other shirts - and have less people see it. He combed his hair, then pulled on a navy blue shirt with no sleeves and his coat. And then realized he was still wearing those ridiculous swim trunks. And that his pants were being laundered.

He clenched his hands into fists and suppressed an aggravated growl. Throwing his coat onto the bed and shoving the rubber flip-flops back on his feet, he stormed out of his room, leaving a trail of whimpering employees and guests in his wake. He was rather miffed that he was dressed a bit too casually for the real restaurant the hotel offered, but upon further consideration he decided that he really didn't give a damn and he barged right in there anyway.

The food, against all his expectations, was delicious.

Slightly appeased and in a relatively un-murderous humor, he went back to his hotel room. There was nothing else for him to do anyway. He flipped the television on to a news channel, then went into the bedroom and changed into the only pajamas his brother had packed for him: a pair of dark pants decorated playfully with the heads of blue-eyes white dragons. Seto was not amused. He called the front desk to ask for a wake-up call. He was figuring out a way to get out before Mokuba got there. He didn't care what it took; he'd start early and he _would _find a way home.

An hour later, his eyes were feeling heavy. He turned off the television and the light in the small living room area. One foot was in the bedroom when he heard another knock. Flying into a rage, he raced to the door.

Only to realize that the knocking was coming from _inside_ his room. He stopped in his tracks and listened. Then turned and noticed something he hadn't before. There was a _door_ - a door connecting his room with the one beside it. And the fool occupying it dared disturb him? Oh, that wouldn't do at all.

Seto sneered at the very thought of the plump, unpleasant vacationer he was sure lurked in the next room. He took a deep breath to prepare for the verbal onslaught he intended to deliver, then opened the door.

Words were completely forgotten.

"Oh my. I had _no idea_ that you were my neighbor, Mr. Kaiba." Anzu, standing in the doorway between their rooms, smiled at him. He stared. She wasn't supposed to be there. Mokuba had said that... Had said that she wouldn't be flying in with him. Of course she wouldn't, not if she was already there.

Seto smirked.

She returned the expression whole-heartedly. She was dressed strangely - wearing a lemon yellow bikini that was more string than anything else. If that wasn't the skimpiest piece of swim wear ever _made_, then he wasn't worth his own name. All anger left him immediately at the sight of her.

"Going for a... dip?" he asked lightly.

She smiled. "I was thinking about it. But..." For a moment, she looked down forlornly. "I'm afraid that I can't. It would be so embarrassing - " Her hand reached behind her back. "-if my bathing suit just happened to..." She grinned and untied the strings of her top. "Slip off."

Seto's bad mood vanished the moment her breasts came into view.

"Yes," he said, "that would be a tragedy. But I think I know how you could solve that problem."

"Oh really?" Anzu took a step closer and blinked, looking up at him innocently. "How?"

He grinned. "Just don't wear it at all."

* * *

Seto woke up beside Anzu the next morning, warm and satisfied. Already the vacation was looking up. 

Until he heard a knock at the door.

Oh, there was only so much a man could take - and they had crossed the line. He got up slowly, not even thinking about the wake-up call he had asked for the previous evening. Walking towards the door, his rage grew. How dare they intrude! How dare they bother him so early! How dare they interrupt his vacation with another trivial matter!

He opened the door. Standing in the hallway was another smiling hotel employee. After meeting Seto's eyes, his smile wilted. "Um... th-this is your wake-up call, sir, and..." And then it happened - the man held up a large, yellow fruit.

The incident was talked about for weeks afterwards. Though no one could prove it, people said that the roar could be heard two or three floors away, leaving employees trembling, guests leaving, and babies crying.

"NO! I DON'T WANT ANY FUCKING PINEAPPLE."

* * *

_: end chapter :

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_**Author's Ramble:** Thanks for reading! I hope everyone enjoyed this. It was very fun to write. Hee. Thank you to the people who reviewed chp. 19 - always appreciated! Heh. Chp. 18 didn't get many reviews at all - was it not good? I really don't mind constructive criticism, so please feel free to tell me if I wrote a bomb. Heh. This bit was a little silly, but... Heh. Yes, it was just silly. Thanks again for reading - reviews are ALWAYS welcomed. 

(AND! Don't forget to check out my fic "And Then There is Chaos" if you're a fan of my work. I just posted the first real chapter, and I'm working on the second one now. Thanks.)


	21. Goes Down Smooth

**_Sevenfold_**

_

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.  
_Date: February 3, 2007

* * *

_**Yellow:** Gluttony_

* * *

Anzu sat on her couch, dejectedly staring at the box in her lap. The white card attached to it read "To Anzu, from your Secret Admirer". The big, bright yellow ribbon seemed to mock her. 

She was not happy.

Now usually any girl would be delighted to receive a box - most likely filled with rich, decadent chocolates - from a flattering member of the sterner sex. However, Anzu only had one boy that she wished to receive chocolates from, and after the all-too-revealing phone call she just had with him, he had _not_ been the one to send it.

Yugi only saw her as a friend. He would never see her as anything but a _friend._

"I suppose I shouldn't blame you," Anzu muttered, fingering the ends of the big, floppy bow. "You're just a box. It isn't your fault Yugi-kun didn't send you." She sighed and picked up the card again. "Secret admirer, huh? I hope this isn't someone's sick idea of a joke." She turned the card over; the company's name was listed, along with their address. She sighed again. "No clues at all. Oh well. Time to see what's inside!"

So Anzu carefully untied the bow.

The yellow, satin ribbon fell away from the box. The package really was beautiful - the dark, rick brown of the box contrasted nicely with the bright, warm yellow of the ribbon. She gently took the lid off.

"Wow," she breathed, her eyes wide. Inside the box, eleven beautifully crafted pieces of chocolate lay nestled in their neat little crinkle-paper cups. And each one was shaped like a different duel monster.

"This is amazing," she said to herself. "They almost look... real! But why are there only eleven?" She picked up the empty paper cup. In small, silver letters it read: _"The Blue-Eyes White Dragon"_. Anzu snorted. "Great. Not only is it not from Yugi, there's a chocolate missing!" She scrunched the cup into a little ball in her fist and threw it off to the other side of the room. The possible significance of just which monster was missing totally escaped her; she was so hung up on one duelist that it never crossed her mind another could be interested in her.

"All right," she said. "Enough of this disappointment. I don't care who sent these to me, they're mine now and I'm going to enjoy them." She picked up the miniature dark magician and smiled sadistically at it. "Time to see if you taste as good as you look."

And she popped it into her mouth.

Not only did it taste as good as it looked, she realized as she chewed - it tasted _better_. She had never tasted chocolate so divine in all her life. It was rich and creamy, melting on her tongue like it had been that well crafted _just _to one day be eaten by her. And it tasted so pure - like chocolate was truly supposed to taste. So pure, in fact, that as soon as she had finished the first piece she immediately began working on the other ten.

She ate monster after monster - not even pausing to give credence to the thought that perhaps eating eleven good-sized pieces of rich chocolate in one sitting wasn't such a good idea. So she just kept eating, until the whole box was empty and her stomach was very full. She sat back contentedly, sprawled on her couch, her hand on her belly and the box at her side.

"Wow. Just _wow_." Anzu yawned happily. "All that chocolate made me tired." She stood slowly, stretching as she rose. A nap seemed like the perfect activity, and her large, comfortable bed was calling.

She spotted the Blue-Eyes wrapper she had thrown lying on the floor. Absently, she picked it up and stuck it in her pocket, making a mental note to throw it away later.

Her last thought before plopping down on her bed was that when chocolate is _that_ good, a little gluttony is completely excusable.

* * *

_: end chapter :

* * *

_**-Author's Ramble:** Well! I have lots to say, but I'll try to keep it short. Sorry this took so long. I... Can ALMOST guarantee that the next chapter won't leaving you waiting nearly so long. I actually took the time to edit and rework this piece, so I'm fairly happy with the end result. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last bit, and I humbly ask anyone who'd care to review to leave this bit a nice little note. Thanks. Hope you enjoyed it!  



	22. GREEN: Invisible

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.  
_Date: February 12, 2007  
**Warning:** rated 'K+' for slight hints of "adult content"

* * *

_**Green:** Envy_

* * *

Mokuba had just beaten the next-to-last level of his favorite game when the doorbell rang. He sighed raggedly and put the game on pause. "Hold on," he called, racing towards the door. "I'm coming; I'm coming." 

He yanked the door open and, just as he had expected, saw Anzu smiling behind it. "Hello Mokuba," she said warmly.

He grinned. "Oh, hey. Hey, Anzu, good to see you. Come on in."

She smiled politely and thanked him quietly as she stepped inside.

"Seto's not ready," Mokuba told her, remembering that his brother had mentioned that he and Anzu were scheduled for a date. "But it won't take him much longer. Come on, let's wait in the living room. I haven't gotten to really talk to you in... Must be a month, at least! Seto keeps you all to himself."

Anzu laughed. "I suppose we are pretty busy," she said as they walked. "Maybe you and I should make plans soon; I'd like to spend some time with you, too."

Mokuba grinned broadly as he flopped down on their beautiful, forest-green leather sofa in the "guest"-sitting room. "Sounds great!"

Anzu sat down beside him - in a much more dignified manner. "Good."

Not wanting the conversation into fall into awkward silence, Mokuba cleared his throat. "So... What are you and Seto going to be doing?" He surveyed her choice of attire. "You're looking pretty smokin' in that little black dress. Going to paint the town red?"

Anzu laughed, almost snorting in her attempts to smother it. "No, no - nothing like that. But... 'smoking'. Mokuba, you're a funny kid; you really are." She grinned. "He made reservations at my favorite restaurant, so we're going out to eat." She laughed again, but the tone was less happy and more self-deprecating. "At least that's what I think we're doing. He's so impossible to figure out sometimes! I had to practically drag that little bit of information out of him."

Mokuba shook his head, fingers dancing across the couch cushion absently. Seto had been worrying over the date for days - it wasn't just going to be a normal dinner. Not if Seto had the balls to give Anzu that ten-thousand plus ring he had bought about a week before.

"Yeah, he's... He's a tough nut to crack." Mokuba looked up at Anzu and grinned. "But he obviously cares. I mean, a restaurant you actually like? Next he'll be building you a shrine." He winked. "With a prevalent blue-eyes theme, course."

Anzu giggled in return. "Of course."

"And, yeah, he might be impossible to figure out, but I think you're doing a good job. I mean, you've got the degrees of scowl down pat. And your interpretation of stare intensity!" He clapped jokingly. "Fabulous, my dear. Brava."

Anzu rolled her eyes, but grinned right back at her boyfriend's younger brother. "Oh, Mokuba." She chuckled once more. "I suppose you're right. But... I really envy _you_, sometimes. You get to see a side of him that I can only ever hope for glimpses of. You know him so well; you really understand him." She looked down. "I wish I had that sort of intimate knowledge."

Not really knowing how to respond, Mokuba looked down, suddenly finding the rich, green leather more interesting than ever before. "Oh no, trust me - your knowledge of him is _much more_ intimate than mine."

Anzu snorted and knocked him playfully on the shoulder. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

She kept chuckling a few moments longer, but Mokuba's humor was gone. She wasn't the only one with a bad case of envy; but his brother was not the one he wanted intimate knowledge of.

Suddenly, as though equipped with sensors to pick up conversations about himself, Seto came striding into the room. "Anzu!" he said, looking surprised to see her. He shot Mokuba a quick glare. Mokuba only shrugged in response. "I thought you were going to call before you came over." He unconsciously straightened his coat.

Anzu stood, eyes only for Seto. "Oh, I'm sorry - I meant to, but I guess I forgot." She grinned apologetically, but he just rolled his eyes.

"Let's get going then. I won't have you making us late."

So off they went, waving goodbye to Mokuba and rushing out the door. He waited until he heard it shut before he sighed and stretched out across the couch. Regardless of Seto's feelings - and not even Mokuba was quite sure what they were - Anzu was totally and completely in love.

"But with the wrong Kaiba," Mokuba muttered to himself bitterly. He reached down by his feet and got one of the small, plump matching pillows. He tucked it under his head and closed his eyes. He could hardly believe that Anzu was envious of him; when he would do anything - _anything_ - just for her to look at him once the way she always looked at Seto.

* * *

**Author's Ramble:** YAH! Thanks so much for reading! Hopefully this came out in a timely manner - I tried to get it written and revised pretty quickly. (laughs) Okay, so I wrote it last night and just got done looking it over. Heh. But! I have Pride thought out already, so I'm expecting to get it up in the next few days. That would be great, but... We'll just see. Thanks for reading! As always, reviews are welcomed and appreciated! Replies for "Yellow: Gluttony" will be on my livejournal soon. 

For anyone who reads my - infrequently updated - fic "And Then There is Chaos", the remainder of chapter three is up. If I don't get distracted with other fics, I'm hoping that I can alternate updates between that and this.


	23. ManicDepressive, pt 1

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: July 1, 2007 (This is part one; the bit was so long I had to separate it into two parts.)  
**Warning:** rated 'M' for bad language, angst stemming from severe depression, and sexual situations involving teenagers. Please don't disregard the rating - if anything listed above makes you uncomfortable, etc., then I would suggest not reading.

* * *

_**Green:**Pride_

* * *

I. 

The teacher at the blackboard had been talking for what seemed like hours. She droned on and on endlessly, the green of the board behind her mesmerizing in its unending sameness. The lesson was important, and most of the other students were attentive, taking detailed notes.

But not Kaiba Seto. He couldn't concentrate - he was tired, and the lesson was only making him more and more fatigued. It was ridiculous - he was ready to go to the office, then home.

He stared at the sheet of paper on his desk. He had taken notes for the first half of the class, but after that he just didn't see the point. What did it matter if he knew the information, anyway? He exhaled, wishing for the class to just end.

To his immense pleasure, they were dismissed about ten minutes later. School had been terrible for him lately; he felt so out of place, and then disgusted with himself for feeling that way. He went to his locker to put away a few things, hundreds of bodies streaming behind him like some rushing body of water. He was a student, too, but he'd never really be a part of them. It felt to him as though there was one collective teenage consciousness - but he had no connection to it. He would always be outside. He would never understand because he would _always_ be outside, like watching a smiling friend splash in a puddle through a thick window and a curtain of rain.

Such thoughts left an unpleasant sensation rolling around deep in his gut. He had never wanted interaction with others; he was not, by any means, a social being. But he couldn't even connect with Mokuba - his little brother, the only person he really cared about; Seto couldn't even talk to him. It had been over a week since he had actually held a full conversation with another human being. It gave him rather disconcerting pangs of what felt far too like loneliness.

The rest of the day passed by like a fog - work was nearly as monotonous as school. He enjoyed business and he made such a good CEO because he was competent and he truly _enjoyed_ running his company. But not even that could break through the solid steel wall of apathy that seemed to have built itself around him. Nothing could penetrate this new, heavy burden that had settled itself upon his shoulders.

He sat at his laptop, staring at some designs he had brought home. Mokuba walked into the kitchen, humming some popular song under his breath. "Oh! Hi, Seto. Did you have a good day?"

"I guess." As good as any other day, really.

"Well, that's pretty cool, then. My day was great! School was really interesting; we had this lesson about - "

Seto listened half-heartedly as Mokuba cheerily babbled on. Mokuba always seemed so happy; everyday the boy was bubbling over with some great news, or some fun adventure. Seto just didn't understand it. It wasn't as though he didn't want to be happy - he had always imagined he was quite happy, indeed. But lately...

He sighed and decided he was probably just tired. Mokuba had moved on to a new topic, though, so he cleared his throat to interrupt. Mokuba paused and looked over.

"I'm tired, Mokuba - so forgive the inattention. I'm going upstairs to bed."

"Aren't you hungry, though? You only had a cup of tea for breakfast, and I know you don't eat at school anyway - "

"No. Not hungry." He shrugged. "I'll eat tomorrow morning, okay? Goodnight."

"Nii-sama! Nii-sama, are you sure you're - "

"I'm _not_ hungry, Mokuba; stop worrying."

So he went to bed and slept until his alarm rang to get up and get ready for school the next morning. With a groan, he pulled himself out of bed and went to get in the shower. That became his routine: for the next three weeks, he'd go to school, go to work, go home and sleep until the next day - when he would get up and do it again.

It felt... bad, to put it bluntly. He couldn't shake off the feelings of gloom - and sudden anxiety. Where once he had been completely indifferent, he suddenly began to loathe the very thought of going to school. He felt so _alone_ there; no one understood him, no one cared. Why should he even bother going? And it irritated him that he should feel that way. He didn't care what other people thought; he had no desire to spend any time with the race of callow, chronically stupid cretins that mucked about the school. He was _better_. He had always been better. So why suddenly the irrational feelings of - and he hated to even admit it - loneliness and isolation?

He wasn't a part of them because he had never wanted to be a part of them!

He hated it, and he was irritated at whatever part of himself was causing him to feel that way.

So one day, he just stayed home. He had all his work for the day faxed to him from KaibaCorp. - he could at least get a little something done; and without school taking up hours of his day, it only followed that he'd be much more productive. He wasn't avoiding his problems. That would mean that there _was _a problem and no way in hell was he going to admit that.

Kaiba Seto did not get ill; if he had problems, he solved them immediately. That was the way things were - the way things had always been.

So he stayed home the next day, as well.

And since two days hadn't had any truly negative consequences, he decided to miss two more.

Unfortunately, that brought him to his teachers' attention. Regardless of his attitude towards school (which, admittedly, had always been rather abyssmal), he had been a conscientious student. Missing four days made them think something had to be wrong. Which was how, one sunny afternoon, two of his fellow students found themselves outside his door, a small stack of work in the boy's hands.

"Thanks for coming with me," Mazaki Anzu said brightly as she rang the bell.

"Oh, it's no problem." Yugi smiled and shifted his weight to his other foot. "I mean... Well, I know Kaiba-kun hates us both, but I don't hate him - and I don't want him to be sick."

"I'm sure he's not sick," she responded. "He's probably just taking a self-mandated vacation."

"What?" The door had opened and there he stood - Kaiba Seto in all his glory, glaring as though they had just committed some unspeakable crime. "Why are the two of you here?"

Anzu grinned. "We brought your work! You haven't been at school - "

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

She ignored him. "So the teachers asked any of your _friends_ if they would take your work to you. Since you don't have any, Yugi and I volunteered."

Seto sneered. "Should I be grateful?"

"That would certainly be the polite thing. But..." She shrugged.

"I can get my own work, Mazaki. I don't need you and - " His lip pulled up in a snarl as he looked at Yugi "-your little midget boyfriend here to do me any favors."

"Gee, you're welcome! I forgot how pleasant you are to be around." She sighed as Kaiba snatched the papers from Yugi. "You know, four days really wasn't enough of a break. Come on, Yugi-kun - let's get out of here before he decides to bite one of us."

He stood in his doorway, watching the two of them walk away. They didn't care about him, he knew. Did they just come to throw it in his face? But he fucking _hated_ both of them, so at least the loathing was fully - _fully_ - reciprocated.

He returned to school after that. Things were rapidly spiraling further out of his control. He felt dazed, like he was in the middle of some dream. Nothing caught his interest; nothing at all even _mattered_. It was strange to know his body was there, but to have his mind feel a million miles away.

The bell rang; he blinked, and the world shifted momentarily back into focus. Every day was like rewatching a grainy old film in which he would never have the leading role. He went immediately to his locker - a safehaven. He sighed wearily and leaned down, his forehead nearly touching the cold metal of his locker.

But he wouldn't allow himself more than just that moment. He looked up - and when he did, for a split-second he caught Mazaki Anzu's eye. She looked off quickly, but all the same it was disconcerting. That was his first clue that she had figured out something was wrong.

And even if he had known then that she had seen how lonely he was, he was too proud to ever ask for help. What he didn't realize, of course, was that she was more than prepared to give it to him anyway.

XXXXXX

"Hey! Kaiba-kun! Wait up." Anzu stopped beside a scowling Kaiba, panting as she caught her breath.

He did not seem pleased to see her. "What is it, Mazaki? I'm a busy man."

She smiled. "I was wondering if you wanted to do something this afternoon with the boys and me."

There was no immediate reaction. "The 'boys'. And _you_." He cast her a very unpleasant look. "Let me think about that, Mazaki. You wait here." And he began to walk away.

"Are you sure?" she called. "We'd love to have you."

"I doubt that," he answered. "Just leave me the hell alone."

"Well think about it, okay?" He rolled his eyes. "Bye, Kaiba-kun! See you tomorrow!"

The next day, the same thing happened. She came up to him after school let out and asked him if he wanted to hang with her, Yugi and the others. He responded - predictably - with a firm no. And it happened again the day after that. He was getting slightly bewildered by her behavior; why, after so many refusals - after all their history - she still insisted on extending such an invitation.

After three more days of that, he decided to inquire. "Mazaki," he said angrily, wheeling around to face the unsuspecting girl, "why do you continue to harrass me when I clearly have no interest in you or your little gang of misfits?" 

She blinked. "Well..." She looked up at him. There was no guile on her face, nothing hidden or deceitful about her. "You looked lonely."

Anzu hit so close to home that it actually startled him. But his surprise only showed for a moment, and soon his face was back to its meticulously crafted indifference. He glared at her. "I," he said, slowly and deliberately, "am not only. I have never been lonely and I will never be lonely. However, should I ever seek companionship, it will not be from you or the herd of untamed mongrels that comprises your group of friends."

He had expected that to deter her, but Anzu was nothing if not determined when it came to people. "Well how about I come over some time, then? I know Mokuba would love to have me - even if you don't. And if you want to join us, that would be okay, too."

"I don't want you near my brother."

"What, afraid I'm contagious?"

"You exude stupidity - as an impressionable youth, he may pick up on it."

At that point he was more than ready to walk away, but she stopped him with a small hand on his wrist. "Please," she said, her flesh far too warm against his. "I'd love to be your friend - if you let me."

It felt far better than it should to have real, human contact. But it was Mazaki, so he snatched his arm away. "I don't want to be your friend." He glared at her fiercely and stormed off, leaving her standing alone on the sidewalk. There was nothing there he wanted; he could take care of himself, and he didn't need her pity or her friendship.

But their conversation wouldn't leave him, and as he showered that night, her words replayed themselves over in his head. A friend. She had noticed he was lonely. And oh, goddamnit, he was - he was so lonely that it left an empty, aching hole in the middle of his belly. Nothing would work - he was so close to actually taking Mazaki up on her offer, because things were only getting worse.

Fuck, it hurt.

He slammed his fist into the shower wall and growled, his teeth clenched so tight it hurt his jaw. It hurt so badly he couldn't take it! He was unhappy - no, he was miserable. Nothing, not even things he once loved, held his interest; he got close to no work done; even his relationship with Mokuba was suffering. It was maddening. He couldn't take it - he just couldn't take it.

Whatever he did, the feelings persisted. He had tried changing to a healthier diet; he exercised - he had even tried hiring a fucking yoga instructor! Nothing worked! And then, when one person - one girl who might be able to lend a hand - had tried to reach out, he had shunned her, tried to drive her away.

"Damn it!" he cried angrily, hurling the bar of soap into the wall. It stuck, a wet, sudsy mass on the wall - then slid down, leaving a green-tinted trail behind. But that wasn't enough.

He pulled the curtain back so fast that half the rings came off their hooks. "Damn it! I'm tired!" He grabbed a bottle of anti-dandruff shampoo and hurled it into the mirror. His arm was strong, and the hard plastic top left a crack. He took conditioner.

"Fuck!" Bam, into the mirror.

"Fuck!" Body wash.

"Fuck!" Mokuba's bubble bath.

He picked up a small, wooden scrub brush. "I'M SO FUCKING TIRED!" He threw it, hard, and the mirror shattered.

His strength suddenly gone, he fell back against the wall. "I'm so fucking tired..." he whispered, his voice soft and hoarse. He sank down onto the floor of the tub, turning off the water on the way. It was ridiculous; he should be stronger. He hated himself for being so weak - so damn weak! He could take it - he had always fought before. Always.

"But I can't," he said miserably. "I can't..." He curled in on himself, hands in his hair, pulling hard. "I can't do it anymore."

He wouldn't cry. It hurt - but he would never cry.

He didn't want to move. So he stayed, a naked, shuddering mass - until he fell asleep there on the bathtub floor.

And in the morning, he pretended nothing had happened at all.

XXXXXX

Anzu had not given up. On the contrary, the response she was met with had only spurred her on. Clearly, the man had no idea just how in need of her bright, sunny demeanor he really was. Only one person could find the chinks in Kaiba Seto's armor, and she wasted no time in inlisting his aid.

"So," she said, wrapping up her speech to Mokuba, "you can see why I'm worried. I don't know if you've noticed it since you don't see him at school, but I think Kaiba-kun needs a friend!" She smiled. "And I'm here to provide one."

"Yeah," Mokuba said, swinging his legs under his chair, "nii-sama's been pretty down lately. I'm not sure about lonely, but he does seem sad. But he won't talk about it! If you can help, then I'm in!"

She hugged the boy tightly. "Thanks so much! I'll see you tonight?"

He nodded. "Definitely."

And so when Seto arrived home from work, there was not one smiling face waiting for him in the normally peaceful retreat of his kitchen, but two. "Good evening!" they chirped merrily.

"Look," Mokuba said, brandishing a large plate. "Anzu and I made cookies!" Seto almost smiled, his little brother looked so proud.

"That's right!" Anzu said. "And if you want to help us eat them, then you have to cheer up."

This brought his attention to her. "Mazaki... What the hell are you doing here?"

"I invited here!" Mokuba said. "That's okay, right, Seto? Anzu's really nice!" As though to prove this, Anzu smiled and put a familiar hand around the boy's shoulders. "The cookies are really good."

Seto grunted. "I have nothing to say to her; Mokuba, don't eat too many cookies and... do your homework. I'm going to my office." And with the proverbial black rain cloud over his head, he stomped off to his office.

"Are you going to follow him?" Mokuba asked in a whisper.

Anzu nodded, a finger to her lips. "Yes. Shh - we don't want him to hear!" So she crept up behind Seto, arriving at his door just after he had sat down.

When he saw her, he was furious. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, standing up angrily. "You can play with Mokuba all you want, but don't you dare trespass into areas I go to get away from people like you. Get out."

"I'm sorry," she said, stepping inside. "But I only want to help."

"I don't need your help," he snarled. "Get the fuck out of my house. _Now_."

"You do need help!" she said firmly, stomping her foot. "There's something wrong. You - "

"And what if there _is_ something wrong? What business is that of yours? Don't you think I can handle myself? Don't you think I can cope?" He was working himself up, he knew, but he couldn't seem to stop. "Why do you insist on interfering? If I want to endure this on my own, you're going to damn well let me!" He knocked everything off his desk in a sudden, impulsive burst of fury. "I don't care! Do you hear me, Mazaki? I DON'T CARE!" He began pacing around in a wide circle. "I will handle this on my own. I do not want your help; I do not need your help, and..." He trailed off when he happened to look over towards her.

Anzu's lips were trembling, her eyes blinking back the oncoming tears. "Oh my god..." she said softly. "What's... what's wrong with you?"

His heart stopped a moment and suddenly his anger was gone. With finality in his voice he said "Nothing," and turned away.

She didn't let that stop her. With hesitant steps, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. Her hands clasped together on his stomach, and she pressed her cheek to his back.

"Mazaki..." He sighed. "Let go of me."

She shook her head. "No."

"Bitch."

She ignored him and only held him tighter. It was strange to have her body pressed so close to his own - real, tangible moment, not a dream. Her breasts were pressed into his back, soft and strange - it was a foreign sensation to him to be held, and he didn't like it. He felt an itch all over suddenly, and he wanted to get far, far away from her. She was so small - her head only came up to his shoulder.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked wearily.

"I told you - I want to be your friend. I care about Mokuba, and if you let me I'll care about you, too." She took a deep, sniffling breath. "You're so sad. It hurts to watch you suffering like this. I only want to help you."

"I don't want your help."

She squeezed gently, giving him the closest thing to a hug she could. "I'm not asking you to accept it; you only have to stand back and... let me give it anyway."

That, he supposed, just might be something he could deal with.

So Anzu became a permanent fixture in his life, then - smiling at him when they crossed paths at school, and coming over every day she could in the afternoons. It wasn't exactly pleasant for him, but she made Mokuba happy, and another person in his life probably wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him.

He wasn't deluding himself, however. She wasn't helping him because she actually cared for him personally; oh no, she merely saw a fellow creature in trouble and - even if it was Kaiba - couldn't let them suffer without interfering in some way. Not the best basis for a friendship, perhaps, but if she was offering, then he would greedily take what he could get. And before long, he could tolerate her. She seemed to tolerate him, as well, and soon he realized that she had come to care for him. She more than cared, in fact - he was startled to discover that she was well on her way to falling in love with him.

It began with smiles. She would look so happy to see him that it was a little embarrassing. Then came more touching - she would brush against him accidentally, or put her hand on his arm when she spoke to him. Even before she realized that she actually liked him, he could see that already that there was something romantic there. However nice it might have been to have another person there for him, he did not hesitate in thinking of ways to take advantage of her feelings. Because he certainly felt nothing for her.

"Kaiba-kun," she said one afternoon (he didn't have to work that day), when they were in his living room watching television, "how are you doing today? You're looking happier." He knew her well enough to know she didn't flatter herself it was due to her influence. "Are things... better?"

He didn't look at her. "_Things_... are fine."

"Oh. Well that's good."

She turned back to the television. But he felt the next question coming. "I..." She stopped and tried to gather her thoughts. "There's something I need to... to tell you."

Seto almost smirked. He knew what she had to tell him; he had known long before she had. She radiated nervousness; he sat next to her on the couch, and he could feel the waves of nervous energy coming off her as strongly as if they were gusts of wind. "I know," he responded.

Anzu was startled. "You... do?"

He nodded. Then he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Of course I know; you've made it far too obvious."

"What do you mean? I - "

But he interrupted her - with a quick, decisive kiss.

She let out a little gasp. "Why did you... Why did you kiss me?"

"Because you wanted me to."

"N-no! No, I didn't want - "

He cut her off again; this time, longer and with more warmth. She gaped, her eyes alight with desire and a sort of excited fear. She was realizing they were alone, he could see the thoughts racing through her head. Mokuba was gone, and Seto had just kissed her - she was afraid he was going to throw her down with intrusive, invasive touch, but at the same time, oh god - she _wanted_ him to.

"How did..." Anzu swallowed nervously. Her voice was quiet, like a whisper. "How did you know?"

Her arms wound themselves around his neck, and suddenly he found her much more willing to continue. Her mouth was so close to his... He hadn't wanted more, he hadn't even felt a spark when he kissed her. "I knew before you did," he said thickly. "You're so obvious, Mazaki." Her eyes closed and she leaned in further. "So obvious..."

And then, she kissed him, her lips warm and insistent against a mouth that was lifeless and cold.

When he began to respond, she melted, her whole body sighing down into a soft surrender. She seemed to sense that nothing could rouse him into wild passion, because she was gentle, all her touches tender. His shirt was undone quickly, and after a moment she took her own off as well. He cupped her breasts over the soft, green cotton bra she wore. It had daisies on it. Daisies. They were yellow and white.

He wanted to scream. _Daisies_. All he could think about were fucking daisies, and he had a half-naked woman in his arms. He leaned down into her shoulder, his nose on her collarbone. She stroked his hair and kissed his temple. His hand landed on her knee. She put gentle fingertips on either side of his head, and slowly helped him lift it. When their eyes met, she smiled - and something inside him broke into a thousand pieces. Suddenly she kissed him, hard. Her hand slipped behind her back, and in another second she was sliding her bra down her arms and tossing it off to the side.

He concentrated as hard as he could on the warm, wet sensation of her tongue against his own; anything, anything to end the dream, to remember he was alive, to feel - to _feel_ again! His slid his hand slowly up her thigh, the smooth skin like silk under his fingertips. She moaned softly and he felt his body jerk.

Kissing her neck, he slid his hand further under her skirt - his hand was between her legs, and he pulled away to watch her face. Her eyes were closed. She felt so hot through the thin fabric of her underwear, and - with new, pulsing purpose - he touched her.

Her mouth opened and she moaned again, a mangled version of his name on her lips. He watched her - because he had never seen her more beautiful than she was then, nearly breathless, breasts heaving, his fingers inside her. 

XXXXXX

Two months passed, and the time brought with it a new, welcome sense of reality. He could breathe again; he could see. He felt no more anxiety, no more loneliness, no more _anything_ but blessed, blessed normality.

"I told you things would get better," Anzu said, gripping his hand tightly in her own. "I knew you'd be okay."

He nodded, but said nothing. He wished with all his heart that she had been the cause - that it would never happen again. But he knew that somehow it had faded on its own. There was still that shifting, trembling bomb inside him; he did not know what had caused it, and he did not know when it would go off again.

But he could hope that, for a few more precious months - after such a deadening haze - he could be himself again.

* * *

_: to be continued :

* * *

_(Part Two is chapter twenty-four. Which will be up by the end of the week, I promise.) 


	24. ManicDepressive, pt 2

**Sevenfold**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh._  
Date: July 5, 2007  
**Warning:** rated 'T' for some bad language - includes a character suffering from an emotional disorder (for all those that did not catch it, Kaiba has bipolar - or manic-depressive - disorder), so I'd suggest not reading if you're uncomfortable with that - Also, this is the second part, describing mania; depression was featured in part one (not required to understand this, but suggested).

* * *

_**Green:** Pride_

* * *

II. 

Things in the Kaiba household had settled down. Mokuba knew something had been wrong with his brother, but it was an unspoken rule that whatever had happened was never to be mentioned; he didn't mind the secrecy, because really all he wanted was for his big brother to be happy.

And suddenly Seto certainly did seem to be happy. Where months earlier he had slept all the time, now he seemed to hardly sleep at all. He had so much energy! All the time he was racing around; nothing or no-one could stop him.

Mokuba was sure it was all thanks to Anzu. She was such a wonderful person; she must have straightened Seto out and pulled him up out of his funk! She had come around a lot then, during the really bad times; Mokuba didn't know how to thank her, but he was so very grateful. There had been days he hadn't known what to do. Seto wouldn't talk to him; he would lock himself up for hours in his office, or go up to his room and sleep like the dead. Mokuba had even found him one night curled up in the bathtub asleep, still naked from his shower.

There had hardly ever been a time when he was more frightened. But things were better. Seto wasn't sad anymore. Mokuba promised himself that he and Anzu would make sure Seto never had to be that sad again.

XXXXXX

"Are you ready?" Seto asked for the third time, hurriedly pulling the knot of his expensive green silk tie up to his collar. "Get your coat on; we have to go. I've got three new business deals riding on this trip, and if you think I'm going to allow you to make me late - "

Anzu laughed. "Don't worry! You need to calm down, anyway; what's got you so wired?" She fluffed her hair a final time, and put in her small pearl earrings - the outfit's final touch.

"I am excited. No, I am more than excited - this is so fucking huge for me. Do you understand that, Anzu? Huge. Enormous. I've been working on these designs for weeks; they're going to completely revolutionize the gaming industry. With KaibaCorp.'s technology and - "

"Whoa! Slow down, okay, I can hardly keep up." She smiled at him and spun around, finally ready to leave. "So? How do I look?"

He smirked. "Delicious." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body against his.

"Ahh!" She giggled as his lips skimmed her neck. "S-Seto... We have to go. The meeting! Remember? You can't be late."

"Shit." He pulled away. "You're right; we have to go." He grabbed his coat off the back of a chair and hurriedly walked towards the door. "Mokuba! Mokuba, get in here - we're leaving. I'm going to the car." He opened the door to the garage. "I want the two of you out here in - " And kept talking even after he had shut it.

Anzu smiled. "Let's go Mokuba," she called, her voice full of mirth. "Your brother's in no mood for waiting on us."

XXXXXX

"That," Seto said smugly, leaning back onto the seat of the limo, "went amazingly well. Superbly. Everything went exactly as I had planned."

"Because of your brilliance, your wit, and your charm, right?" Anzu teased.

"Naturally."

Anzu and Mokuba both grinned, continuing to tease him over his slight - and only partially justified - fit of arrogance. The conversation was light-hearted and easy; it wasn't at all difficult to enjoy themselves when they all three were so close and knew one another so well. Even Seto seemed unusually gregarious - an atypical trait that he had been exhibiting more and more over the past two weeks.

Eventually, the conversation drifted to superheroes, and Anzu asked Mokuba what power he would like to have.

"Well I don't know. What kind of powers do you mean?"

She smiled. "Being invisible, or having super-hearing, shooting lasers from your eyes, being able to fly - "

"Oh yeah, that would be awesome," Mokuba said. "I've always wanted to be able to fly."

Fly...

To fly, to feel the wind rushing past him, feel the cool, clear air all around... What a sensation. If only he could have wings. Of course Mokuba wanted to fly; who wouldn't? The other two were still talking calmly, but Seto's mind was racing. Just thinking about that open space... that empty blue sky! God, it was stifling in the car, on the ground - hot, hot with no freedom, no freedom at all.

Maybe if he rolled down the window... No! The roof - the roof opened; he could open it up to the air... the fresh, outside air! He could fly, his head stuck out the top of the car. It was too crowded, too hot - he needed space. He loosened his tie. But still he felt too confined. He loosened it a little more and undid the first few buttons of his shirt. Anzu and Mokuba were still talking, but his head was buzzing - he couldn't hear a word.

So he pressed a button on the door and soon the roof was rolling open.

Of course, it did not go unnoticed. "Whoa!" Mokuba said excitedly. "Look, there's a hole in the roof. It's opening up! That's so cool. Seto, did you do that?"

He nodded to his little brother.

Anzu laughed. "Yes, Mokuba - I think it's something called a moonroof."

Mokuba looked to Seto for confirmation; he grunted in assent.

But Seto didn't really care what it was called. He didn't care what it was, where it was, or anything at all about it - all he cared about was getting out into the air. He slipped the tie off his collar so it hung just around his neck. He stood up as far as he could and moved to the middle. Mokuba scooted to his left, thinking that his brother wanted to sit down.

Instead of sitting down, though, Seto climbed up and stood on the seat. Anzu and Mokuba exchanged confused looks, wondering what in the world the man between them was up to.

Seto felt wonderful, the upper part of his body out of the car, wind rushing all around him. He undid the rest of his shirt buttons, then took it off - he didn't bother to throw it back down into the car; he tossed it off behind the car so it went flying behind them like a fallen feather. He spread his arms out wide, the green silk tie flapping at his neck, trailing like a tail at his shoulder.

"Seto," Anzu called from the car, "what are you doing? And what was that thing that just flew off - did your shirt come off?"

"Yes, I took it off. Tell the driver to go faster."

"What?"

"Faster!"

Where amusement had been in her voice, there was suddenly worry. "I don't think that's a good idea. Why don't you come down and sit back here with us in the car? What are you doing up there anyway?"

He closed his eyes and began to laugh. "I'm flying."

Mokuba laughed with him. "Nii-sama, you're so weird! Let me go up there, too!"

Anzu put a gentle hand on his knee. "Why don't you stay down here, Mokuba - I don't know if there's enough room for both of you."

"Aww, it looks like there is! Come on, let me - "

"Mokuba, please." She looked up Seto's legs to where the curved top of the car ended and his torso stuck out into the air. "Just stay down here. I'm not sure your brother's completely in his right mind. Did you see him drink anything? Any wine or beer?"

"He's never in his right mind," Mokuba muttered. But to Anzu, he shook his head. "He did get drunk once at a business meeting, and it was so embarrassing for him that he never, ever drinks at those things."

Anzu's brows furrowed. "Then what is the matter with him?"

Mokuba shrugged. Seto often did strange things, and he rarely - if ever - offered anyone who worried or cared about him an explanation. But surely Seto wouldn't do anything too reckless - after all, they were in a moving car!

Suddenly, Seto's voice shouted down the them again. "Faster - I said I wanted to go faster! What the hell is wrong with this driver? Tell him to go faster, or he's fired. I want to fly - soar! Faster, faster - I want to go all the way up to fucking outer space."

He felt so free - so alive! It was bliss; he felt like a young god - soaring on a cloud, carried away from a glorious battle. Nothing could touch him. He was strong; he was _free_.

But suddenly it wasn't enough. He was rich, he was beautiful - he was, he was a young god! So why shouldn't he _really_ fly? He had always had good balance as a child; surely he could stay up even if the car was moving. It wasn't dangerous unless he wasn't careful - the only danger was falling off. And he knew how to be careful - he wouldn't fall!

He braced his arms against the top of the car and started to hoist himself up.

Anzu gasped. "Seto... Seto, come down! Don't you dare climb on top of this car!" She grabbed hold of his ankle. "I know you're just kidding, Seto - and ha, ha, you really had me going. But get down _now_ - this has gone far enough. Please, Seto, come down."

He ignored her and shook his leg to loose her hold. "Let go, Anzu - I'm fine." He sounded excited - almost calm, really, except with an undercurrent of anticipation. "I'll do what I want." He pulled his leg up, regardless of Anzu's hand - which had tightened around him - and reluctantly, she was forced to let go.

"I'm worried!" she said. "You're going to get hurt." If only she was stronger... She should have pulled him back! Why he wanted to sit out on top of a car she didn't know, but there was no way she was going to let him get hurt because of his own arrogance and stupidity.

"I'm not going to get hurt," he told her. "Not me. How could I? Stop worrying, damn it - I'll be fine."

He was kneeling on the roof. Already they were going at a good speed, and the wind stung - it was almost painful in the way it whipped past his face. He looked ahead. The road was mostly dark - the car's headlights illuminating only a few feet ahead. It was _magnificent_.

He raised himself up onto his feet, still squatting down. He put his arms out on either side, like wings - eyes shut, his whole being euphoric.

And slowly, slowly, slowly... he stood.

He couldn't tell the car was slowing. He couldn't hear anything - the other cars, Mokuba's yelling out the window... Everything was background noise to the pounding of blood in his ears.

It was _perfect_. In his mind, nothing could go wrong.

But the roof was slippery. And his balance wasn't as good as he had imagined.

When he tumbled hard off the car, it was Anzu's scream he heard - not his own.

XXXXXX

Before the car had even come to a complete halt, Mokuba was stumbling out, running as hard as he could to his brother. "Seto! Nii-sama, nii-sama, nii-sama! Oh please be okay." He choked back a wet sob as he knelt down on the wet grass by his brother. "Are you awake?"

Seto groaned. "Fuck. My leg. I think it's broken. Where's Anzu?"

"I'm here! I'm right here!" She ran up to him, plopping down beside him, ignoring the damage the wet grass would do to her dress. The ground was dark, a green that was almost black. She grabbed his hand and held it tightly in her own. "Are you okay? Oh Seto, why did you do something so stupid?"

He sat up slowly, two supporting hands on his back. "I'm..." He coughed. "I'm going to vomit." Mokuba and Anzu scooted away a little as he retched out the contents of his stomach. "It hurts so badly - is my leg broken?"

"Probably," Anzu said honestly. "It looks pretty mangled." It was bent in an odd way and she was amazed he wasn't crying or screaming out in pain.

"That was so stupid!" Mokuba said angrily. "Nii-sama, how could you do that?" Hot tears were dripping down his little face. "That was so stupid..."

Seto lay back down in the grass and groaned again. "I'm feeling the effects, so I think I'm pretty aware of that. My leg... is it broken?"

"Don't speak," Anzu said, her tone soft but commanding. "The driver called the hospital and I'm sure they'll be here soon." She wiped his mouth and sighed. "Just hang on, Seto - just hang on a little longer."

XXXXXX

None of his injuries were serious, but it was a severe wake-up call to those who cared about him. No more ignoring the signs.

Anzu and Mokuba came to the hospital every day they could. They didn't chastise him, though both dearly wanted to. It was too hard seeing him torn up - his fibia had been broken, and he had gotten a concussion. The fool! Anzu couldn't be grateful enough that the driver had slowed the car down when he did.

If they had been going faster... or if Seto had fallen off the other side of the car...

She didn't want to think about it. She blamed herself - if only she had tried harder to stop him. But it was just so reckless - so stupid! She hadn't really believed he'd stand up on top of the car until it was too late to prevent it. Something was seriously wrong with him; after what Mokuba had told her about his breakdown a few months previously, she was convinced that he needed serious help. If only he wasn't so damn proud!

She talked to a doctor and asked for a psychiatric evaluation. The odd behavior had been going on for a long time, and she wasn't going to let him hurt himself with that wild recklessness just because he was too proud to admit that he had a problem.

After the doctor left, she nervously opened the door and stepped into the room. Mokuba was asleep, curled into a ball on the worn-out chair right under the window. She shut the door softly and went over to the bed. With a smile, she sat down on the side with his uninjured leg. "So?"

He grunted and didn't meet her eyes. "I'll be fine. They're discharging me tomorrow."

She smiled. He knew what she meant. "But what did the other doctor say?"

"Oh, you mean the fucking psychologist you had come in here?"

"Yes, him."

Seto sighed and nudged Anzu with his foot. "Why did you - "

Her expression tightened into a frown. "You tried to stand on top of a moving car, Seto, and you thought that nothing would happen to you! You're _not_ fine, whatever you say - and I'm only trying to help you. For your own sake. For mine. For Mokuba's."

He didn't answer, just stared off towards the wall. He could sense she still wanted an answer. "I talked to him, all right?"

"And what did he say?"

"It's... treatable." He sighed and sighed, a tired hand going up to his face. He needed to shave, she noticed - and he looked ridiculous in his hospital gown. He must be going mad, cooped up all day. She felt a wave of empathy; it must be maddening for him to be trapped there because of his own actions.

"What is it?" She took his hand. He held it to his mouth and softly kissed her palm. "It doesn't matter, Seto - I won't think you're crazy or - "

He shook his head and laughed, though there was little humor there. "No, I'm not crazy. Just slightly ill - bipolar, apparently."

"Well." She smiled. "I think I can deal with that."

* * *

_: end chapter :_

* * *

**Author's Ramble:** Well. This venture took so much out of me. Blah. I really hope everyone liked it - I tried my best! I don't suffer from real mania, so I had to do research on that; I hope it was realistic! Feedback (on this part AND the first) would be appreciated and cherished, because I worked for so long on this that I really want it to be as good as possible. I'm not really happy with how this second part turned out, so I might go back and edit later. Review replies for part one are up. Does anybody read them? I could use the response feature, I guess - would that be better? Anyway - until bit 24 (green: avarice)! 


	25. Raking Them In

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.  
_Date: March 15, 2008  
**Warning:** rated 'K ' because the kiddies shouldn't gamble

* * *

_**Green:** Avarice_

* * *

There were sounds all around her – new, but suddenly familiar sounds that made her blood race with excitement and her heart pound with a recently discovered feeling of delight. 

She played to _win_.

All she had wanted to do initially was win enough money to buy a plane ticket back to Japan. And after an entire evening of risking everything she had, she had won enough to buy close to _three_ plane tickets back to Japan. And after another evening of perhaps less risk but equal reward, she had won enough to permanently whet her appetite for more.

Dice rolled, people played slots, and roulette wheels spun all around her – the air was heavy with desperation and hope, tables full of broken dreams and new, win-induced adrenaline. The atmosphere was perfect; Anzu drank it in, soaked it up, relished in the feeling all around her.

She was almost tempted to thank the man who had stranded her there.

Yes, she had been abandoned – actually _abandoned_ – in Las Vegas, Nevada by the world's biggest jerk. The arrogant, unfathomably irritating man had actually flown off without her, leaving her with nothing but two more nights in the hotel and the small suitcase in the closet of her room. However strong her animositytowards him had been before, the hatred she felt for Kaiba Seto had been increased _at least_ sevenfold.

The fateful trip had started out as just another vacation. Kaiba had some sort of business meeting in Vegas, and he needed someone to watch after Mokuba. The boy – so much more pleasant to be around than his older brother – had requested Mazaki Anzu specifically. And so, after a rather tense phone call and a little negotiation, she had agreed to accompany them. They were going to stay for five days: three for whatever business needed to be taken care of and then two more days of nothing but leisure.

Things had been fine at first. Maybe they weren't exactly civil and maybe there was a level of sexual tension that made _everyone_ uncomfortable, but both could deal. But then the looks got perhaps a bit too heated, and tensions rose a bit too high. The enormous fight they had the third evening was one of the biggest in the whole of their acquaintance. Choice words were exchanged (nothing that he didn't deserve, she thought haughtily), and the verbal blows were sharper than even the most finely cut blade.

The next morning, Anzu found herself alone, without even a note in the Kaiba brothers' stead.

Her first, gut reaction had been rage. She had been too furious to even think about the hopelessness of her situation. Then, once her boiling ire had settled into a simmering sort of anger, the tears came; she spent an hour shuddering and crying, wondering what in the world she was going to do in a foreign country with almost no money of her own.

And that was when she had her brilliant idea. If there was one thing she knew about Las Vegas, it was the over abundance of places to win – and lose – extravagant amounts of money. So she took all the money she had and went into the first casino she could find.

She found immediate, unexpected success.

At first, nothing had mattered but Kaiba; she had to get enough money to get home so she could cause him as much pain as was possible before someone physically dragged her away. But the more money she won, the more money she wanted to win. It was an intoxicating feeling; a hot, heady burning in her veins – her first tantalizing brush with _greed_.

When she cashed in her chips at the end of the first night, she should have been excited about buying her plane ticket home. But when she held those faded green bills in her hand, going home was the last thing on her mind. She wanted to come back again and again and again – to win more and more and more…

Her third night of gambling - one more night than she had ever actually intended to stay - was over; and again, she had had amazing luck. She smiled to herself as she walked out, head held high, money tucked away in her handbag. She played to win.

And there was absolutely _nothing_ like it.

* * *

**Author's Ramble:** YAY! Thanks so much for reading! And I'd like to send an enormous thank you out to everyone who reviewed the last chapters (for bit 23). I tried to reply to everyone; sorry if I missed somebody! I hope everyone enjoyed this bit; sorry it took such a long time in coming! I'm a wretched fiend, I know. I didn't want to work on this for awhile because bit 23 took so much out of me. But that's no excuse, really, because I've had this idea for a really long time and I could have finished it much sooner than I did. And then school was tough, and then I had this really, really icky thing that happened that I'm still recovering from... Yeah. To make a long story short, I'm sorry. Heh. Anyway, I really hoped everyone liked this bit. I ended up tweaking it alot. 

Reviews are incredibly appreciated but not necessary; actually, if anyone wanted to go review my fic "In Case of Emergency" (chapter 23 is coming! Oh, it's coming soon!) that would make me absolutely giddy. But... yeah. If you do decide to review this, I shall be incredibly thankful, and shall of course relay my gratitude.

Thanks for reading!


	26. Vertical Expression, Horizontal Desire

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.  
_Date: March 21, 2008  
**Warning:** rated around 'T ' for the usual lust-related stuff. I think. Well, really just an enormous double entendre. Oh, and there's Kaiba confusion. But it's him. Just trust me; it doesn't say it, but it's him. I know - I wrote it. Heh. 

* * *

_**Green:** Lust_

* * *

Everyone was going.

It was new, relatively unknown – a haven for young, restless creatures who wanted to drown in a dizzy, electric sea. The cover charge was low and the dress code was novel; pay to get in, drink for free, wear a mask and dance all night. 

Poison – Domino's hottest new underground spot.

Anzu followed her two friends inside, shoving her money down and avoiding the pull of the endless sea of bodies stretched across the floor. The paint on the walls was peeling; all the lights seemed neon, bright and earnestly illuminating what small space they could. All she could see was green; everyone wore black and bright, acid green – the color spun around and around as people walked and danced and ran, a sort of hysteric new rainbow of only one stunningly bright hue. 

Lights flashed. A woman in a short skirt carried a tray of shots over towards them. Both girls Anzu was with took one of the tubes and poured it down the respective throat. Anzu pulled at the string of her mask, straightening it against her hair. 

There were so many people. She wasn't shy but she was uncomfortable, jostled about and packed so tightly she could barely breathe. Through the smiles and laughter and wild, raucous obliviousness she made her way to the dance floor.

Music was playing; but it wasn't really music, it was rhythmic noise, crisp and bubbling and with a beat one could feel from her fingertips to her toes. Anzu closed her eyes. 

She felt it all through her body - the pulsing, pumping beat. 

And so she did the only thing that felt right then; she danced. Amidst the sweaty, heaving crowd she found her place. Everything else melted away into the black and the green and the sparkling scene – she followed her body's impulses and soon got swept away. 

They were staring.

People around her noticed and watched, her movements intoxicating and hypnotic. She was a butterfly, buffeted around by her own force of wind – a gossamer angel of synthetics and sweat.

Those who wanted to join were nervous, struck by her skill, impeded by their own mediocrity. Anzu was suddenly a goddess; and no one could touch her but a god.

He came, sidling up beside her with leather pants and a button-down top of sickly-sweet acid green. It didn't seem to suit him but he wore it well, anonymity a goal and conformity something that made him paradoxically stand out. A mask – in the style of American superheroes – hid his eyes; but they found her and as she twirled to get the feel for the next song his chest found her back. 

She stopped, turned around to face him.

He extended a hand

And as soon as she grabbed it they were a whirlwind. Electricity shot up her spine – everything was fast-paced, racing, flying, but they moved with grace and sensuality and – _he, too, had wings._

Something inside bid her be reckless. She did not know this man. She could not see his face; she had not heard his voice. He was anyone. He was everyone she had ever wanted; everyone suddenly who had ever touched her, who ever would. 

His hands found her hips; they gripped tight and low, pulling her closer. She was better, and she knew it; but he had confidence – he exuded it. And he was by no means an unsatisfactory partner. She hurt – a wonderful, exquisite pain as her body pulsed, eager to beat in time with his. They were so close; they shared space and air. They were suddenly one entity; suddenly a single unit. An energy was building, a tension more than just sexual. As they moved she could feel his frame like it was one with hers; the sinewy twist of his body a parallel to the smooth rocking of her own. 

His body was hers.

Suddenly he leaned closer, his mouth at her neck, lips there but not quite touching the tingling, trembling skin. He spoke, words breathed across her neck, dancing down to her shoulders like a hot, humid breeze. Things were too loud; ears were nearly bursting, filled with sound - so whatever he might have actually spoken registered as nothing more than an exhale. She did not know what he _said_; but she knew what he meant. 

Anzu had come to dance; she never came to meet someone and usually even the brave men who asked her to dance were brushed aside like the insignificants they were. But this man had not asked. He had _demanded_; he had taken her, given her no choice. And God, it felt _good_.

It was better than the pounding acid of alcohol in her blood, better than the way her feet could find any beat and follow it like it came from the pumping of her heart. 

She wanted to dance. She wanted to ballet and ballroom and feel her back pressed against a wall as this unknown angel wailed. There was rhythm; she wanted to feel it, rocking harder, wanted to explode with the tempo as it heightened and sped. 

The mood changed as a slower song came on. Techno music blasted around them as Anzu swung around, wings flailing as he caught her, reeling her in and then pushing her out again. He faced her now, and she stared at the patch of skin his shirt didn't cover, right as his neck and shoulders faded to chest. 

They moved. They pushed and pulled, guiding the other toward something neither could see.

Nothing mattered. Not even the crowd around them was in focus – the walls, with paint peeling off in strips, the neon strings of lights, the bar and all its patrons in the back: everything faded into another song. And they danced. 

They danced.

His hand snaked up her back, between her shoulder blades. She put delicate hands on his shoulders, staring up into eyes she couldn't see. He leaned down as she leaned up. His lips touched hers for a moment, then a moment more. Anzu could taste him, the ache suddenly gone, her being suddenly satiated. 

When he left, she watched him until he had disappeared through the door.

Later, as they drifted out just before close, her friends asked who he was, asked how they met, asked if she had had a good time with such a mysterious partner. 

Anzu smiled enigmatically as the world wept acid green around them, patrons filing out, back into the world. He was still – would always be – a stranger.

And one day they would dance again. 

**

* * *

**

**Author's Ramble:** Okay. I hope everyone enjoyed this! I finished it very recently; needed something to take my mind off other stuff. And of the nearly 140 of you who read this, I'd like to thank the two who reviewed. No, I'm not going to beg for reviews; this is a project I've chosen to undertake and I plan to finish it. This couple is just too awesome to stop now - there's still so much more "exploration of everything Azure" (as my summary says - ha ha) to do. But I'd like feedback anyway. Heh. Oh, I'm also in a terrible mood right now and I just need something to be bitter about.

This feels trippy to me; I don't know why, but I can't write very realistic description unless it's in a regular story format, and even then I'm not great. And I don't even pull off the floaty awesome one-shot feeling a lot of authors have got down so well. It almost feels like I'm trying to be better than I am. Which is wrong and completely unfortunate, because I sort of think in that trippy everything-is-sparkly-and-smelling-of-purple way I wrote this. I don't know... Blah. Maybe I just write everything like it's very, very surreal. Perhaps I should just put in men with bowler hats and melting clocks... 

I just have a lot of complaints about this. There's no characterization at all. And I suck so very royally at endings. I don't know if it accurately conveys the "lust", though I used the green theme so much it felt like I was beating a dead horse. I could have gotten a lot more metaphorical because of the trippy-ness, but I decided that for something like this simplicity was best. If you think you see something else, then you're probably right - I just wouldn't read too deeply. I dunno. It's done and I just hope it isn't a completely egregious piece of pseudo-writing babbly stuff. 

Anyway, see everyone for the next bit! Which should be... interesting, as right now I have no ideas for it. Green: Wrath. We'll see how that goes.

Reviews are, as always, greatly appreciated! I fear I'm going to get (and perhaps deserve) a lot of criticism for this one... But that's okay! I do want to improve.


	27. Shall We Be Better Strangers

**_Sevenfold_**

* * *

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.  
_Date: June 5, 2008  
**Warning:** CANON! Unusual for me, I know. Also, not much romance.

* * *

_**Green:** Wrath_

* * *

He wrote his name on the blackboard in smooth, deadly strokes – as though he had an assassin's hand.

Anzu glared at his back.

"As previously stated, I am Kaiba Seto. And I have been asked to speak to this class today…"

She stopped listening after his name, her hands gripping her pencil with such fury that her knuckles were white. How dare he invade her life again; she thought after high school she'd be rid of him for good. Apparently, forces at work in the world seemed to find it amusing to throw one of the men she loathed most straight at her.

He wrote something else, beginning to speak in that peculiar "lecture voice" that all those who dealt with crowds or the public seemed to adopt. Anzu spitefully ignored every word.

And it really wasn't as though he didn't deserve her hatred, because he did. After everything he had put her friends through, he deserved to be strung up by his toes and have his own duel disk shoved up his throat. She was curiously pleased at the thought. After all, if there was any justice in the world, he'd meet with a fate that was much worse.

He had always been rather difficult regarding some of the more fantastic happenings where dueling was involved, but Anzu had tolerated his deliberate obtuseness with as much grace as she could. It was when he completely denied what had happened in Egypt and wrote it off as a "mass hallucination" that she got truly incensed. There was only so much that a girl could take.

So there he was, still lecturing in the front of the classroom, holding the rapt attention of many of the other students. She was vaguely disgusted.

Her eyes bore into his back. His shoulders were surprisingly broad for so slim a body, and they tapered down to a trim, tiny waist. He had grown up; the lanky teenager had filled out well, and he no longer looked sickly thin. Mokuba – a Kaiba she actually liked – had probably finally succeeded in convincing the workaholic to take things a little easier.

Which, she mused, wasn't at all fair. He was wealthy, brilliant, and handsome? At least, she thought with some measure of sadistic glee, he had never been able to beat Yugi without cheating. If nothing else, she at least had that to give her comfort. Not, of course, that she ever spent time thinking about him. If she happened to pass KaibaCorp. or maybe if she saw Yugi – then he might invade the outermost reaches of her mind. She was perfectly and completely content never to think of him again. So when he showed up in her classroom – of all places! – naturally she was more than furious.

A loud snap broke her out of her thoughts. She looked down to see two halves of a pencil before her, gripped in either hand. She let go and they rolled off her slim green binder onto the floor.

The entire room turned to look at her.

She felt her cheeks turning red as eyes everywhere zeroed in on her.

Kaiba, noticing her for the first time, slowly let his mouth fall into an insufferably smug smirk.

"It's not polite to disrupt a speaker," he said. Anyone else might have thought he was merely chastising an inattentive student, but that gleam in his eye told her otherwise. He was enjoying her humiliation, enjoying the way the entire class was snickering at her behind their hands.

"The last time I checked," she said angrily, getting up out of her chair, "you couldn't care less about being polite."

And before he had a chance to respond, she was out the door – the class staring at the large, green Economics book she had just attempted to introduce to his face.

* * *

**Author's Ramble:** Thanks for reading, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this bit. It's short and unromantic, I know, but this is an exploration of EVERYTHING azure (or at least a lot of things), so I felt this was quite appropriate. Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter - I liked it a lot myself. Hee. Well, reviews for this bit are always appreciated as well. If anyone reads it, "ICOE" chapter 23 is posted. Also, don't forget to vote in the poll on my profile - regarding which "Sevenfold" bit has been the favorite thus far. Thanks again!


	28. Sun Bathing

**_Sevenfold_**

**_

* * *

_**

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.  
_Date: April 12, 2009

* * *

_**Green:** Sloth_

* * *

Anzu picked her way carefully across the yard, the verdant grass crunching under her bare feet. Mokuba was still splashing in the pool, but she wanted to step inside for a moment to grab a drink, use the restroom – and, perhaps, just check on her appearance. After all, Mokuba's big brother would be home soon.

"The idiot," Anzu groused as she pulled a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. She and Mokuba had gone swimming together at least once a week since the weather had been warm enough – and still Seto was clueless. How many hints did a girl have to drop?

Suddenly, though, the very object of her thoughts – and affections – walked into the kitchen. "Mazaki," he spat, glaring at her as he set his briefcase on the counter. His eyes swept over her. They weren't, as she would have liked, filled with any measureable appreciation. No, just irritation that she had worn only her bathing suit into the house – and probably disapproval as well, as it was a tad on the skimpy side.

"Hello to you, too, sunshine," she responded, careful to keep her face blank.

He sneered. "Why are you here?"

"Mokuba invited me to swim – as usual. I came inside because I was thirsty."

That seemed to be satisfactory, because he merely shrugged. "Well either go back out and entertain him or leave. I don't want you wandering around my home unsupervised."

Anzu rolled her eyes. "Whatever." It wasn't as if she had even been wandering; she was just in the kitchen. Though if he wanted to _supervise_ her, she really wouldn't have any objections.

So grabbing her bottle of water, she went back outside.

"Hey Anzu!" Mokuba called. "Watch this!" And with a huge grin he ran down the diving board and executed a perfect cannonball. Anzu smiled.

She wasn't really in the mood to swim – the quick dip earlier had been enough for her, and she was more than content just stretching out on one of the loungers around the side of the pool. It was a good opportunity to relax, and maybe work a little on a tan. She always brought an extra bottle of tanning oil, hoping that maybe rubbing it on her back might finally awaken Seto's deeply suppressed masculine urges. He'd only agreed to do it once, and even though she had untied her top and let out plenty of happy little sighs, he had remained completely unaffected.

Slipping on her round, bottle-green sunglasses, she sighed. Men – almost more trouble than they were worth. At least the sun was warm and Mokuba was enjoying himself. It was almost enough to forget –

"Oh hey nii-sama!"

She didn't move at all, but immediately all her attention was sharpened, focused in on that one point she could hear walking over towards her.

He was grumbling quietly to himself, throwing down his towel on the chair beside hers. And she felt a thrill at the chance to see him so unguarded. He looked flawless, as usual, though Anzu had to bite back a chuckle at his pale, skinny legs sticking out of his deep forest –green trunks.

"She's still here?" he addressed to Mokuba, jerking a thumb towards her. Had Anzu not been so comfortable, she would have been very tempted to throw something at him.

Mokuba, however, was kind enough to be indignant on her behalf. "Of course she's still here! Anzu's tough, you can't scare her away."

"Whatever." He didn't seem to care if he could intimidate her, and she wasn't sure whether that was progress or not. He didn't seem to hate her any more, but indifference wasn't a step forward. "I'm going to do laps. Show her out when she's ready to leave; and make sure she doesn't touch anything."

He jumped in the pool. Mokuba shot Anzu a sympathetic look. He was perfectly aware of her feelings and was the biggest supporter of her cause – though he hadn't made any progress cracking his brother's shell, either. But she knew that once Mokuba was in one's pocket Seto wouldn't be long to follow. It was pointless to put forth effort when there was such a slim chance of success, so she was willing to just wait.

Eventually he'd notice her little crush and not long after that he'd reciprocate. All Anzu had to do was sit back and wait for him to make the first move.

It might take time, she knew, but that was fine. Most things worth having took time to get, and Kaiba Seto was very _very_ worth having.

For a few minutes, they all just continued with their own activities independently: Anzu sunning, Seto doing laps, and Mokuba sitting on the edge of the pool, splashing his feet in the water.

"Hey Anzu," Mokuba said suddenly, "do you want to stay for dinner?"

"I really should go home…"

"Aww, please?" He looked at her pleadingly.

"Mokuba," Seto said sharply, standing up straight in the pool, the water at his waist. Anzu discreetly lifted her glasses to get a better look. "What are you telling Mazaki? I want her gone as soon as possible; she can't stay for dinner." His eyes narrowed as they turned to Anzu. "In fact, why doesn't she leave now?"

"Be nice, Seto," Mokuba chastised. "Anzu's really sweet and she's my friend."

Seto just ignored his younger brother, climbing out of the pool and walking over to the chair with his towel on it. He quickly dried himself off, then stretched out on the lounge chair.

That was unusual; typically he just swam and went inside, unconcerned with the other two out there and never one to waste time. But he was just lounging there, his face softer without the ever-present scowl marring it.

Anzu was all too aware of him, her body warm from the sun and his presence. She felt suddenly lethargic, not at all inclined – or even, she felt, able – to move. In fact, the afternoon could have lasted forever and she wouldn't have minded at all. Mokuba was splashing in the background, back in the pool as the two teenagers laid silently on their respective chairs.

But, of course, no matter how relaxed and immobile Anzu felt, that wouldn't extend to the man beside her. With a small, stretch he stood up. "Mokuba, I'm going inside." He slung his towel over his right shoulder and began to walk leisurely back toward the house. But as he walked past Anzu, he stopped and leaned down to pick up her water bottle. Apparently he lost his balance or needed leverage, because his hand landed on her leg, fingers splayed out across her thigh.

That was not just an innocent touch.

As he crouched down, he whispered "A white bathing suit… with blue spots?" She could tell he was trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. His hand squeezed lightly and she bit her lip to keep from sighing. "You really aren't subtle."

And as he stood up and continued inside, the puddle of Anzu-goo he left in his wake was radiating ecstacy.

"This," she thought to herself, shutting her eyes, pulling her glasses down and putting one hand behind her head, "has been a very good day."

* * *

**-Author Note: **Er, sorry guys! This has actually been done for awhile, but for some reason I kept forgetting to post it! Forgive me, please? Hee. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers; feel free to review this chapter, as well! Heh.


	29. Full

**_Sevenfold_**

**_

* * *

_**

_Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh.  
_Date: April 12, 2009

* * *

_**Green:** Gluttony_

* * *

Jounouchi took another bite.

The food was delicious, that was certain. It had been expertly prepared, seasoned perfectly and not a single person at the table, not even Kaiba, could find anything to complain about. Jounouchi appreciated good food; he could even appreciate bad food on occasion – it was food, after all, and Jounouchi really wasn't picky.

But he wasn't eating because he was enjoying the meal. No, he was eating in that same, continuous stream because he knew that if his mouth wasn't occupied he knew that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from going off like he so desperately wanted to do.

Yugi had planned the whole thing out. They'd all been busy and it had been months since they'd been able to gather together like they always used to during high school. So he'd called everyone (even Kaiba), made the reservations and now that they were in the restaurant, kept the conversation fast and lively.

Everyone was having a good time.

Jounouchi had been having a good time, as well. He wasn't pleased that Kaiba was there – their mutual dislike had lessened over time but it had never completely faded - but he wasn't going to make a scene. Until, of course, he saw something that made his dislike for Kaiba sky-rocket straight back to full-blown hatred. He had leaned in – he was sitting next to Anzu, and though Yugi said something occasionally she was really the only one talking to him. And, his mouth only a few inches away from her ear, he had whispered something that made the poor young woman flush and put up a hand to hide her smile.

She looked radiant, the deep emerald gown warm and soft against her pale skin, and her hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. And though Jounouchi hadn't been happy that Kaiba had said something to her that had embarrassed her, he guessed that Kaiba had probably just noticed how good she looked and had said something inappropriate. As long as Anzu hadn't minded, though, he wasn't going to make a scene.

Until, of course, Kaiba's left hand – long-fingered and very feminine, Jounouchi had always thought – reached surreptitiously over to Anzu's place setting and had gently squeezed her hand.

Jounouchi had nearly shot out of his chair then, but knowing had hard Yugi had worked at it all, he forced himself to remain in his seat, instead forcing more food into his already full mouth to keep from shouting.

"Hey, slow down," Honda said quietly. "I don't think it's going to get off the plate and walk away."

He'd only glared at his friend before turning his eyes back to Kaiba and Anzu. They appeared to be ignoring each other, looking down at their respective plates and eating quietly. But Kaiba's left hand was gone, and Anzu's face was red. She looked like some sort of Christmas decoration with her dark, cherry-tinted cheeks and the soft green of her dress.

"Thank you again for coming, Kaiba," Yugi said suddenly, shooting Jounouchi a semi-apologetic glance across the table.

"Hmm. It wasn't an imposition," Kaiba replied haughtily. "I had some free time."

Anzu's eyes shot to his for half a moment, a small smile playing at her lips. Kaiba just raised an eyebrow, clearly suppressing a smile of his own.

Jounouchi glowered.

And just kept eating.

* * *

**-Author Note: **This one has been done for awhile, too! Bah - I guess I'm just off my game. Heh. Anyway, this is the last of the green fics, so now it's tiime for blue! Yay. Thanks for reading, everyone - reviews are always appreciated!


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